Touched By An Ancient
by Ann3
Summary: One way or another, Carson has to face his fears and accept his destiny. My first attempt at a continuing story, so I hope you enjoy please R&R !
1. Chapter 1

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Summary: One way or another, Carson Beckett has to face his fears, and accept his destiny.

Spoilers: None for the story itself, but reference made to Rising and, later in the story, Duet

Set during season two

Disclaimer: Really wish I owned these characters – but since I don't, I'll just have to borrow them.

They'll all be returned, safe and sound, to their respective owners – even Carson. Honest !

Writer's note: Carson's 'journey' within this story stems from the background I gave him in Hope Reborn, so you might want to read that earlier story first. Hope you enjoy !

Chapter 1

"Damn it, Carson, _concentrate_…! We need those drones…! _Now_…!"

"_You_ try and concentrate, Rodney, with half a bloody ceiling falling on top of you…!"

At any other time she might have smiled. Or laughed. Or fought the urge to bang their heads together. When it came to bickering, these two could easily put the stroppiest of feuding siblings to shame.

But there wasn't time for Elizabeth Weir to enjoy this latest battle of wills and wits between them. Atlantis was in trouble. _Serious_ trouble. She needed all the help she could get to defend her people. She needed her CMO to put his fear of it aside, and let that terrifying power back into his mind.

That power had already taken a heavy toll on his strength, Elizabeth now noted in guilty concern. Even with all the sweat and dust caked thickly across it, his face was pale. Unnaturally pale.

But Carson Beckett knew that, whatever its consequences, he had to ignore this mind-splitting pain. He _had_ to do this. He _had_ to overcome this deep rooted terror within him, because if he didn't – well, allowing Atlantis and, inevitably, Earth too, to fall to the Wraith just didn't bear thinking about.

He was so tired, though. Just so tired. So completely fed up with this whole bloody business.

Elizabeth's voice filtered through the searing agony, offering him much needed, rallying comfort.

"I know it's hard, Carson, but please… just – just do your best… without those drones to protect us…"

Another explosion rocked the room, choking its occupants in another cascade of dust and rubble. It was McKay's reaction, though, its panic-fuelled crassness, which caused the greater damage.

"…without those drones, Carson, we're toast. So just quit whining and get the damn things airborne. Whatever you were thinking when you almost took out Sheppard, start thinking it now…!"

It was a low blow. One that McKay already regretted, with or without Elizabeth's bullwhip rebuke.

"_Rodney_…!"

Regrets and rebukes meant nothing, though. The damage was brutally, and irreversibly, done. What little colour there had been in Carson Beckett's face now drained completely away – his telltale refusal to meet the scientist's eyes showing just how deeply those jibes had hurt him.

Leaving McKay to stew in his conscience, Elizabeth now struggled to repair the damage he'd caused.

"You can do this, Carson, I _know_ you can. I've every confidence in you, you know that, don't you…? I _know_ you can get those drones back in the air again, Carson, you just need to concentrate…"

That won her a still shaky smile as Carson nodded, screwing up his eyes in the struggle to comply. After several stuttering false starts, the Chair beneath him finally glowed and hummed back to life. Seconds later the city shook again, as her precious means of defence thundered back into action.

Yet beyond her pride at his courage, Elizabeth Weir felt a chill of irrational unease run through her. The laboured breathing was quieter now, settling into a much shallower, unnaturally slow speed.

Suddenly his eyes snapped open, wide and even more vividly blue against the paleness of his face – the surprise within them gradually yielding to a peaceful, almost resigned serenity as they met and held hers. Even as this struggle for survival swung back in their favour, it was almost as if Carson Beckett was telling her that…

"Atlantis, this is Sheppard. I don't know if you can still hear me, or who sent the fireworks up here. But if it's who I _think_ it is, then way to go, doc…! At least you're aiming at the right guys this time. Just keep 'em coming, though, doc, and… well, thanks to you, we may just be home for dinner…"

However irreverent, the relief in John Sheppard's voice had sent fresh hope through the entire room. After several hours of terrifying assault upon her, the tide was turning. Atlantis was fighting back.

Within seconds, though, cheering applause for her other unsung hero died into horrified silence. Carson Beckett wasn't smiling. He wasn't enjoying this richly deserved, rare moment of appreciation. Instead he lay unnervingly still and silent, within a shroud of equally unnatural, pulsating light – beyond all reach of Elizabeth's horrified yells of his name as that light seeped slowly into his body.

"Carson…? Carson, can you hear me…? Carson…? _Carson_…!"


	2. Chapter 2

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

All previous summaries, spoilers and disclaimers apply - reference also made to Sanctuary

Thanks so much for all the reviews and encouragement, it's all much appreciated ! And I promise I'll update as quickly as I can - if I can just get my little Beckett muse to stop sulking and help me out with the plot...

Speaking of which,on with the show... ;o)

Chapter 2

Was this the cruellest irony, that her CMO should be lying here, so lifeless, in his own Infirmary…? Lost in stricken thought at his bedside, Elizabeth Weir could have forgiven herself for thinking so – just as she'd forgive a passing observer for thinking there was no cause for worry. No cause for alarm.

Breathing unaided, with no outward sign of injury, Carson Beckett seemed merely to be sleeping. Only closer inspection revealed a far more disturbing reason for its unnatural, unrouseable depth.

The light which had invaded him still held him within a softer, gently shimmering shroud. It hadn't done anything to stop his shellshocked medical team's frantic attempts to rouse him, but… well, the fact remained that her CMO still lay totally lost to her, in the hands of a much greater power.

For reasons that still eluded her, the Ancients had returned to Atlantis to re-claim one of their own. They'd taken possession of him. Taken him to fight a battle known only to Carson Beckett's mind. Her only comfort, albeit a tenuous one, was the reassuring warmth of life that remained in his hand – the peaceful calmness of his face assuring her that he wasn't suffering any form of fear or pain.

They'd keep him safe, of course. Once this private battle was won, they'd bring her CMO back to her. And she knew he was beyond all chance of hearing her, but… well, it wouldn't stop her from trying.

"I – I don't know where you are right now, Carson… or – or why you've been taken there, but… well, I know it must be important, otherwise they wouldn't have taken you away from us like this…"

Pausing for a moment to gather her thoughts, Elizabeth then squeezed his hand a little more tightly – leaning carefully closer to send a heartfelt plea across the immeasurable distance between them.

"I need you to come back, though, Carson, you hear me…? You've _got_ to come back…"

She'd have given anything to hear his voice reassure her, as only that soft Scottish brogue ever could. It was another familiar voice, though, breathless from an all out run, that startled her from her thoughts.

"Elizabeth…? I – I just heard about Carson, is he okay…? Zelenka just said he'd… oh, _jeez_…"

Skidding to a halt beside her, John Sheppard stared down at the sight before him in mute disbelief. Alien strangeness came with the job, of course, especially here in the Pegasus galaxy, but this... to return from battle in victory, only to find a friend, a _good_ friend, lying so still, so totally lifeless.

Not to mention the glow. He'd seen that glow before, of course. And he knew exactly what it meant.

"Any idea what it wants with him…? If it's trying to control him, or… anything…?" he asked at last – hoping that second question hadn't sounded so crassly clinical to her as it had sounded to him.

To his relief, Elizabeth was already smiling her understanding for a leader's natural sense of priorities.

"No, but I think Carson knows…" she said at last, recalling that strange serenity she'd seen in his eyes. "Just before he lost consciousness, he… well, he seemed to sense something was about to happen..."

"Yeah, that figures… especially if that something has to do with the Ancients…" John replied softly – sufficiently reassured by her nod of agreement to add his own unique call for their CMO's safe return. "I don't know what you're facing, doc, but if it's _any_ kind of green, just keep your head down, 'cos… well, we kinda need you back here… and soon, doc, 'cos no-one keeps McKay in line the way you do. And I need all the help I can get on that score, so… well, just get yourself back here ASAP, okay…?"

The shrouded face beside him remained peaceful and still, void of all response to this gentle teasing. It was the sudden wince on Elizabeth's face, though, which caused John Sheppard's to follow suit.

He'd already guessed its cause. But he still had to know the full and, no doubt, regrettable story – if only to help Elizabeth repair the latest damage inflicted by a recklessly insensitive tongue.

Forever the diplomat, Elizabeth waited until they'd left the Infirmary before putting him in the picture. Even so, those they'd left behind still heard the force of John Sheppard's justly furious response.

"He said _what_…?"

Wincing at the repercussions to come, Dr Kate Buchanan then glanced sadly and wearily around her. Left shattered in rubble and ruins, her flagship team in crisis, Atlantis was falling apart at the seams. Now, more than ever, she needed her soul to soothe and heal her wounds, to make her whole again – prompting a heartfelt plea to that healing soul, even as he lay beyond all possible hope of hearing it.

"Wherever you are, Carson, just hurry you home. God knows, we need you. We _all_ need you…"


	3. Chapter 3

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's note: First of all, thanks so much for all the reviews and comments ! Oh, and before I forget, to Emma and everyone else who have asked to know, Kate Buchanan is an original character from Hope ReBorn. I've made her Carson's second in command. And yes - she's Scottish too. So am I, by the way. Well, let's face it, with Sheppard and McKay around, the poor wee lad needs all the back up he can get !

Anyway, apologies for not telling you all that from the start, but I have a very good reason - kinda distracted in watching our favourite doctor in action, if you see what I mean ;o)

Speaking of which... now then, Dr Beckett, what _is_ going on in that cute wee head of yours...?

Chapter 3

_Dr Beckett_…? _Welcome_...

Even through barely open eyelids, dazzling brightness still reached beyond to painfully sear his vision. Instinctively screwing them shut again, Carson growled a dire warning to that soft voice beside him.

"If that damn light isn't out my eyes in two seconds, lass, so help me, you'll bloody regret it…!"

Almost immediately, the brightness dimmed in obligation, to a much more comfortable level. Even so, several moments passed before he made another cautious attempt to open his eyes again – a rueful apology to a no doubt terrified wee nurse dying into silence at the sight which met them.

There _was_ no terrified wee nurse. No comforting sight of familiar, worried faces beside him. No recognition whatsoever of his surroundings, or any point of reference that he could recognise. Only this surreal brightness that, to his rising alarm, seemed to be taking a life of its own.

It had started to take more definite form now, several thinner tendrils drifting out from its main source. Still transforming, it then began to move. With unmistakeable purpose. Straight towards him.

Backing in pure terror away from it, Carson Beckett didn't know what scared or confused him more – waking into this disorienting void, or the transformation of his fear into something equally bizarre. Surely he should be making some attempt to escape from it – whatever _it_ was. So why wasn't he…? Why did he feel such an irrational feeling of peace…? This comforting sense that he was safe here…?

He'd been a doctor for long enough, of course, to have heard countless accounts of such experiences – hisinnate compassion always defeating his more cynical 'scientist' side when it came to believing them. He'd just never imagined he'd go through it himself before he reached forty, let alone thirty six.

But no. Several brisk pinches on the back of his hand told Carson Beckett that he wasn't dreaming. Or going crazy. Or re-living his first woeful, still sorely regretted experience of 'the hard stuff'. Just days before his thirty sixth birthday, he really _was_ facing humanity's greatest challenge – meeting that moment, he dazedly reflected, just as countless others had no doubt met it before him.

"Oh, _crap_…" he whispered, directing his next equally shaken questions to the pulsing glow beside him. "Wh – Where am I…? Did _you _bring me here…? Oh God, am – am I dead…? Really _dead_…?"

The tiny part of his mind not consumed by tumbling emotions now silently mocked his stupidity.

'…_it_'_s_ _a light_, _you gomeril_…! _You_'_re_ _talking to a ball of light_, _as if it_'_s_ _actually going to_…'

_No, you are not dead, Dr Beckett. And you have nothing to fear. You are perfectly safe_...

'…_answer you_…'

On the verge of berating that last voice, in no uncertain terms, Carson stopped himself just in time. It wasn't exactly the kind of language which the other presence in his mind would want to hear. Instead he tried to concentrate on the first voice he'd heard, struggling to place its gentle femininity. He'd heard that voice before. Damn it, if he could just get his thoroughly addled mind to remember.

"I – I know you…" he said at last, silently pleading for something, _anything_, to help him place her – his mouth dropping open in further amazement as his ethereal companion instantly obliged. Her transformation was almost complete now, a face of extraordinary beauty taking his breath away.

As a hologram she'd captivated him, but here and now, in… what…? More importantly, _where_…?

Finally reaching her solidly mortal form, Melia watched his reaction in gentle amusement. She'd been connected to him, this kindred spirit, from the moment he'd released her onto this journey. Bonded to his gentleness, his selfless courage, they shared the destiny he had yet to fully accept.

This first calling to him had come rather sooner than she'd expected, but… well, that was no hardship. Set in a face of pure compassion, Dr Carson Beckett really had the sweetest, gentlest eyes – that softly cadenced accent charming her just as deeply as it finally stammered back into life.

"I – I remember you now… you're – you're the hologram I found, back on Atlantis... you're… you're…"

_I am Melia, one of the Ancient guardians of Atlantis. Yes, Dr Beckett, you are right_…

Melia then smiled, in approving encouragement, as curiosity started to replace the fear in his eyes – his acceptance of her hand without fear or hesitation another good sign as she coaxed him to his feet.

_Come. You are ready to start your journey_…


	4. Chapter 4

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's note: I'm on holiday at the moment, so I'm going to try and get another couple of chapters posted this week before Real Life has to intervene. Thanks again for the reviews - all comments, suggestions, even the odd Walnut Whip, gladly accepted to keep me inspired !

Chapter Four

He'd entered the lab with the sole intention of verbally, if not physically, ripping its owner apart. Those intentions died, along with much of his anger, as soon as John Sheppard saw that owner's face.

In the space of just five short hours, McKay seemed to have aged by the same number of decades - the affliction which had struck down one of his precious few friends clearly weighing heavily on his conscience.

There was no way that John Sheppard could chew him out now, however richly he deserved it. As the fate of one friend battered his conscience, he needed another to try and ease its load. So the furious tirade he'd had all planned changed instead into just one soft, carefully neutral word.

"Hey…"

Apparently it had been a little _too_ casual, since McKay showed no sign whatsoever of hearing it. Only several gentle taps on his shoulder finally succeeded in bringing haunted eyes back into hopeful focus.

It didn't take a genius to work out he'd been hoping, and no doubt praying, to see someone else – the prospect of further guilt piling onto his conscience dismissed with another gently casual smile.

There was still nervous wariness in those eyes, though, as they followed John to a nearby chair. The scientist's strangely subdued voice wasresigned to the chewing out which, he'd already accepted, would surely follow.

"You've – You've heard…? I – I mean, what's happened to… to…"

"Carson…? Yeah, I've just been to see him…" John nodded, frowning in renewed, mounting concern. That inability to even say his name, the strain in what he _had_ said. Neither were encouraging signs.

He almost smiled at the irony. If ever he needed Carson Beckett's calming influence, it was now. Until their CMO re-joined the living world, though, _if_ he ever did… well, he'd just have to do instead. How, though…? How best to breach those protective defences…? Okay, what would _Carson_ say…?

"This wasn't your fault, Rodney. No-one's blaming you for what happened…"

"Oh, really…?" McKay's head snapped upwards, blue eyes flashing with anger towards puzzled green. "Well, that's a shame, Colonel, because they damn well should be…!"

Thrown for a complete loop, John needed all his reflexes to catch McKay's arm as he barrelled past – the bullwhip tone he'd put on the back-burner making its presence felt a little sooner than planned.

"Whoa, McKay, calm down, just take it easy… damn it, Rodney, I _said_ calm down…!"

Green eyes met blue once more – the former willing compliance, defying the other to do anything else. After one last, frettish struggle, McKay finally yielded, slumping wearily back onto a nearby stool.

"I - I'm sorry..." he said at last, the complete defeat in his voice, the speed of his subdued apology, speaking volumes for the guilt which had provoked it.

It was several moments before John Sheppard answered him – rather more calmly, certainly more gently, than before.

"Come on, Rodney, he's going to be okay. I mean, you know Carson, he's as tough as they come. I know you wouldn't think it to look at him, or hear him at times, but… yeah, he's a tough little cookie alright, a real natural born fighter, and…"

The interruption was thankfully calmer than last time – but still every bit as fraught with emotion.

"Damn it, that's just the point…! He – He _isn't_ a natural born fighter pilot for you, or – or a labrat for me, he's…"

Struggling to find his next words, McKay then found inspiration from a hauntingly familiar protest.

"He's a _doctor_, John. A _medical_ doctor. He was sent here to treat the injured, and heal the sick, and… damn it, he's a _doctor_… not some freaky weapons machine that we can just plug in when we need him…"

"Yeah, I know… I know…" John agreed softly, too lost in thought to catch his friend a second time.

By the time he recovered himself and caught him up, McKay was half way along the corridor – the direction he was taking, the grim determination on his face, setting fresh alarm bells ringing.

By the time they reached the Chair Room, all argument and counter argument had been fought. The unlikely victor was too intent on his mission, though, to even think about congratulating himself.

"I've got to do this, John… I've – I've got to know what I've been doing to him…"

Sensing just a chink of fateful logic in his reasoning, John then sighed in still reluctant agreement – wryly thinking back to his own first 'encounter' as he offered McKay some final words of advice.

"Okay, but just take it _slow_, Rodney, it… well, it takes some getting used to…"

Eyes already closed, face already creased in growing discomfort, McKay simply nodded in reply – dismissing the voice which now ghosted through it as just a figment of a silently screaming mind.

'_Och_, _Rodney_, _you daft bugger_, _you_ – _you don_'_t_ _have to do this_…'


	5. Chapter 5

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's note - I was hoping to get a couple of chapters updated this week, but Real Life has this annoying tendency to interfere ! And I'm back at work from next week, so the updates may take a little bit longer in coming. Thanks for bearing with me, and for the reviews !

Okay, on with the show...

Chapter Five

"Och, Rodney, you daft bugger, you – you don't have to do this…"

Swallowing hard, shaking his head in silent sympathy, Carson then turned to meet Melia's eyes – his own holding a flare of uncharacteristic anger as he nodded towards the small console beside them.

"Is that why you've brought me here, Melia…? To teach us both some kind of cosmic lesson…?"

She'd clearly been expecting that anger, since her smile was forgivingly gentle as she shook her head.

"Such cruelty is not our way, Carson. This is simply part of the journey which you both must share…"

It was good to see the anger leave his eyes as rapidly as it had appeared – especially since it was replaced by such charming contrition.

"Aye, lass… sorry, I should have known that…" he said at last, clearly thinking more had to be said – so grateful when Melia's gentle squeeze on his hand conveyed both forgiveness and understanding. That didn't stop his sigh of relief, though, as a wave of a delicate hand blanked the screen beside him. He was feeling unsettled enough already, without watching McKay suffer this familiar, mental hell.

Already bonded to his thoughts, Melia squeezed his hand again, offering both apology and comfort.

"You _are_ safe here, Carson. And we _will_ send you back to Atlantis, once you have…"

"Completed my journey… aye, lass, I know…" Carson replied softly, his smile thankfully stronger – curiosity returning to his eyes as, still hand in hand, they walked on through shafts of ethereal light. "You – You keep mentioning this journey, Melia, that we're both now taking together, and… and… well, I'm sorry, lass, but I still don't understand why I'm on it... or Rodney now, come to that, and…"

"That is because you have only been travelling it for a short time, Carson…" Melia told him gently. "And I know that it is a journey which you are still… _reluctant_… to take…"

"Only because I get the bloody jitters around things I don't understand…" Wincing slightly at his choice of words, Carson then offered her one of his most heartmelting smiles. "That – That doesn't include _you_, love… I – I mean, I don't feel that way now, while I'm with you… in fact… well, I – I know this must sound crazy, but – but I feel I've known you my whole life, and…"

He was stammering badly again, feeling ridiculously like the tongue-tied teenager he'd once been. The affectionate understanding in Melia's smile only served to make his cheeks burn even hotter. God, what he wouldn't give right now for some good old Scottish fresh air to clear his mind. He'd skip the traditional weather, of course, but some familiar scenery would be a real tonic right now.

Right on cue, his surroundings swirled in a haze around him, making his addled mind spin even more. By the time it settled down again, a miraculous journey through time and distance was complete – causing his mouth to drop open, his eyes instantly dampen, as memory rushed back to overwhelm him.

In the thirty years since he'd last been here, the majestic beauty of Glencoe hadn't changed a bit.

_He_'_d_ changed, though. The happily carefree little boy he'd been then had changed beyond recognition. And it had all started here, _right_ here, during that final, most poignant of happy family holidays.

"I – I was here, as a wee boy, when – when I found out my father was dying…" he finally whispered – struggling to hold onto his emotions as Melia smiled and nodded in foreknowledged sympathy.

"Yes, Carson, I know. That is why I brought you here. It is where your journey to destiny began…"

Not trusting himself to speak, too lost in memories now to even try, Carson just nodded absently – his eyes drifting back towards the sky again, where he knew he'd find his father's comforting smile.

"Can – Can I stay here a while…? Just a wee while, so I – I can just remember…?" he asked at last – so very grateful for the gentle compassion which drifted so comfortingly through his heartbroken mind

"We will stay for as long as you wish, Carson. As your journey began here, so will it end…"

Across another measureless distance of time and dimension, Dr Kate Buchanan's mouth dropped open The face in front of her was as still and tranquil as ever, the depthless blue eyes still firmly closed. It was recognition of what had seeped out from beneath them, though, which now held her spellbound.

Moved by pure instinct to gently wipe those tears from Carson's cheeks, she then thumbed her headset

"Dr Weir…? Colonel Sheppard…? I think you'd both better get down to the Infirmary…"


	6. Chapter 6

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's note - that's the great thing about weekends, it makes for perfect fanfic writing time ! So I've managed to get another chapter posted after all, I hope you enjoy !

Chapter Six

If there'd been a sprinting record for reaching the Infirmary, then John Sheppard had just broken it. Tripping over his heels, Elizabeth Weir came in an equally breathless, nervously excited second.

It was the third arrival, though, which caused Kate Buchanan the most surprised, grateful relief. Not only was McKay still in one piece, he'd also been persuaded to show his face in the Infirmary, for the first time since Carson's collapse.

A certain colonel, it seemed, could add another string to an already impressive bow of attributes. John Sheppard, chief pilot and name giver extraordinaire, was also something of a miracle worker.

Another wondrous event now caused Kate's smile to widen as she led them across to Carson's bed.

In the subdued night-time lighting, it was difficult at first to see why she suddenly looked so hopeful. It was Elizabeth who, still frowning, finally noticed the cause for her cautiously delighted smile.

"Oh, my God, he's – he's crying…"

As both John and Rodney squinted closer for confirmation, she then turned expectantly to Kate – her own relief at this precious sign of life inevitably tempered by its most likely, unsettling cause.

"Is – Is he suffering…? I mean, has he said anything, or done anything, to suggest that he's…?"

Kate was already shaking her head, smiling welcome reassurance as she checked the monitors beside her.

"In pain...? No, there's nothing to say from these readings that he's unduly distressed, or suffering any harm. From what Halling told me earlier, many people back on Athos have gone through the same experience. They call it the Journey, where those gifted by the Ancients are reminded of their special destiny. My guess is that Carson's facing some past trauma, which has stopped him from accepting it…"

"Like the death of his father…" McKay cut in softly, his voice stricken in new found understanding.

The connection between their minds had been brief, shatteringly painful – but still so very significant. Within those agonising minutes, he'd learned the true, tragic reason for his friend's irrational terror. And that understanding privately appalled him, left him sickened by his own crass stupidity.

Oblivious to the puzzled frowns around him, he gave Carson's arm a tentative, consoling squeeze – hoping that connection was still strong enough to carry his next words of soft, heartfelt apology.

"I'm – I'm sorry, Carson, I had no idea… just – just had no idea…"

He'd have given anything, there and then, just to hear that familiar voice drift through his mind again. But no. This unnerving silence, both within his mind and outside it, continued to haunt him instead. His only comfort, met with startled gratitude, was John Sheppard's rallying squeeze on his shoulder.

Managing just a trace of a smile in return, McKay then turned still anxious eyes back towards Kate – so aware that the hopes of hundreds, not just his own, rode on the reply to his next, hesitant question.

"He – He _will_ be okay… won't he…? I – I mean, when the time's right, he – he _will_ come back…?"

Kate Buchanan recognised a challenge when she heard it. Just as she recognised a silent plea for hope. If they'd been back on Earth, she might have hedged her bets on the chances of her CMO's recovery. But here, where miracles were the norm, and the technology to hand was, literally, out of this world – well, she'd gladly take all odds on that recovery, no matter how impossibly long they were.

"I can't say _when_ he'll wake up…" she said at last, finally meeting the scientist's silent challenge – her next words causing John Sheppard to smile, in fond memory of where he'd first heard them.

"We're dealing with technology here, an advanced civilization, that's light years ahead of our own. But everything we've learned about them has told us the Ancients have _never_ harmed any of their kind. And Halling assures me that every Athosian who's been through this has made a _complete_ recovery. You can see for yourself, Rodney, he's aware of his surroundings. He's _trying_ to come back…"

"He certainly is…" Elizabeth agreed, giving her CMO's hand a gentle, proudly rallying squeeze. "We're here, Carson… all here waiting for you to come back… all waiting to welcome you home…"

Kate was smiling too, in silent satisfaction, as preparations for that homecoming continued around her. Chairs were re-arranged. Coffee organised. Plans for recovery and reconciliation quietly discussed.

The family was coming back together again. Healing and regrouping, strengthened by fresh hope. Things were looking up.

In depthless sleep beside them, Carson Beckett continued his slow, silent journey back to that family. Deep within his captive mind, that journey was about to take its final, astonishing, life-defining twist.


	7. Chapter 7

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's note - another quick trip into the mind of our favourite wee doctor. Oh, and before I forget, there's another original character joining him there... I hope you enjoy !

Chapter Seven

Sunset. Or was it sunrise…? Spellbound by its beauty, Carson really didn't care one way or the other. On this incredible journey of wonders and miracles, such trivial matters lacked all sense of importance.

Not even the voices that now tugged so gently at his mind could break this peaceful, idyllic calm – though in the case of a certain, nervously babbling scientist, it wasn't for the want of trying.

"…_and I_'_ll_ _promise you something else_, _Carson_, _the first thing I_'_m_ _gonna do when you wake up_…? _I_'_m_ _going to make all this up to you by_… _um_… _oh yeah_, _I know_…! _Dinner_…! _For_ _your birthday_…! _Yes_, _that_'_s_ _it_, _I_'_m_ _going to treat you to the biggest dinner that bottomless pit of yours can handle_…"

It was a touchingly genuine peace offering – yet it still caused Carson to visibly cringe.

"The last dinner you treated me to, Rodney, gave me bloody food poisoning…!"

Chuckling at a certain colonel's gentle digs over pots and black kettles, he then turned to Melia – seriousness returning to his eyes as he realised that meal was still an immeasurable distance away.

Until he understood, and accepted, his remarkable destiny… well, Carson knew he was going nowhere His only comfort, gratefully welcomed, was the understanding in Melia's eyes as she re-took his hand.

_You have almost reached the end of your journey, Carson. You will return to them soon_…

That won her another of those charming smiles as Carson nodded before adding a rueful afterthought.

"Trust me, lass, where one of Rodney's dinners is concerned, I'm much safer staying here…"

A far more serious gesture of friendship then caused his smile to fade, his voice to fill with regret.

"I – I just can't believe he went through all that pain, Melia… that – that it was all for nothing…"

_He had to learn and grow from that lesson of his volition_… Melia explained with a gentle smile. _Dr McKay had to accept his true destiny, Carson. Just as you must learn to accept yours_…

Carson had no idea where the surge of anger that now overwhelmed him came from. But come it did.

"Aye, the same bloody destiny that killed my father…!"

To his surprise, Melia seemed relieved by his outburst. Grateful, almost, for its release of emotion.

_You have every right to be angry, Carson. Every right to fear and resent these powers within you. That is why you are here to confront that fear and anger, so that you can defeat them_…

The shy smile which answered her was still awkward and strained, but it still charmed her nonetheless. So did the hesitant, thankfully calmer attempt at a question which followed it a few moments later.

"Did they…? I – I mean, my father had these powers too, and… well, I – I mean…did he… um…?"

_Fear and resent them too_…? Melia concluded for him, still smiling as she thought out her reply.

_I was not bonded to him, Carson, as I am to you. I did not assist in his journey_… she said at last – favouring him, Carson suspected, with as close to a mischievous grin as an Ancient could get. _From the accounts of my Elders, though, it was a challenging and_… _interesting_… _experience_…

"Aye, that sounds like my da'…" Carson chuckled, glancing wistfully around the now sun-lit Glen. "He – He loved his life, though, lass, and… well, not a day goes past that I don't think of him…"

Lost in memories once more, he didn't notice the anticipatory smile which now graced Melia's face. Nor did he notice a telltale, mirror–like shimmer form an image of light behind him, until…

_Aye, laddie, I know_…. _I know you do_…

Spinning on his heel, Carson Beckett stared in total and utter shock, into eyes he'd know anywhere. As brilliant a blue as his own, they twinkled back at him, in wry amusement at his stunned expression. And the voice that now gently admonished him...

_Close your mouth, son, or you'll be swallowin' a sheep_…

Complying, albeit in a trance of pure disbelief, Carson still looked dangerously close to collapse. His voice, when he finally found it, barely had the strength to climb past the mountain in his throat.

"_Da_'…?"

Slipping a fatherly supportive arm around his son's shoulders, Alex Beckett smiled once more – in gentle seriousness this time as he drew Carson into a hug that broke all possible realms of reality.

_Aye, laddie_… _aye, your old da's come back to haunt ye_… he chuckled, lovingly ruffling his hair – pulling away a little, just enough for him to proudly re-meet his son's still wide, helplessly tear-flooded eyes. _Well now, wee Carsie_… _haven't ye grown_...?


	8. Chapter 8

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's note - thanks again for all the reviews, they've been much appreciated ! I'm going to try and get a new chapter posted each week from now on - more if I can manage it, Real Life permitting.

There aren't any spoilers as such, but reference is made to scenes in Rising and Thirty Eight Minutes. And from that scene in Letters From Pegasus, where he's recording the message to Sumner's family and states that not everyone has a family back home, I'm assuming that Shep has lost one or both of his parents - hence this chapter.

I've also guess-timated that Shep is slightly older than Carson, if only by a couple of years - rather like Joe Flanigan is to Paul McGillion.

Okay then, on with the show... :o)

Chapter Eight

…beep beep… beep beep… beep be… beep beep beep… beep beep beep… beep beep beep…

Even by the surreal, now mostly accepted quirks of life in the Pegasus galaxy, this was getting spooky. For the past twenty hours, their eyes had anxiously watched the heart monitor at Carson's bedside – reassured and yet slightly unsettled by the two barely separate signals which jumped across its screen.

After a worrying surge from one of them, a third now joined in this compellingly fascinating race – prompting a tiredly dry question from beside her as Kate checked and re-checked her readings.

"Jeez, doc, how many more Ascended Ancients do you think he can fit in there…?"

"You're asking _me_…?" Kate retorted, casting John Sheppard an equally irreverent grin in response. Enjoying the face he pulled in return, she then sighed, turning back to thoughtfully study her patient – brushing Carson's hair straight with, John noted, a gentleness beyond that of her professional training.

It caused his smile to widen, in genuine pride, with realising what that simple gesture signified. Carson Beckett wasn't just her patient. Not just her CMO. He was a friend. A _good_ friend. Then again, he was a friend to everyone on the base, always there to offer that gentle, calming support.

It felt so damn wrong that none of those friends could reach him now, when he needed them most. So unfair that he should be facing these silent demons in his mind beyond all reach of their help. It had to be this way, of course. He knew that. But that didn't help John Sheppard feel any better.

A quietly concerned voice, the gentlest of hands on his shoulder, broke into still brooding thoughts.

"You should get some rest, Colonel… trust me, if there's any change, you'll be first to know…"

"Thanks, doc, but… no, I'm – I'm okay…" John assured her through yet another cavernous yawn – doggedly reassuring her, as only he could, even as his exhausted body continued to betray him. "'sides, with all the time he's spent sat here, fretting over me, it's kinda time I returned the favour…"

"Aye, there is that…" Kate chuckled, too tired herself to argue against such watertight logic. Instead she turned her attention to another of John Sheppard's equally notorious distinctions. "Can I get you anything…? Turkey sandwich…? King size pizza…? Ten course banquet…?"

"Very funny…" John muttered, not quite succeeding in keeping the appreciative smile from his face. With the ease of much practice, he then upped that smile to its full, glacier melting strength. "Though now you mention it, that pizza _does_ sound good… then maybe some apple pie to go with it…?"

If he'd closed his eyes and gone by voice alone, not forgetting the allowance for age and gender – oh yes, the peeved mutter that followed could so easily have come from someone else.

"I'm a doctor, ye cheeky wee Sassenach… not a bloody skivvy…!"

On the verge of asking for a translation, John Sheppard then wisely thought better of it. He'd learned, from frequent and rueful experience, that making such requests was _never_ a good idea. Instead he smiled his thanks for this welcome diversion, before turning back to more serious matters.

"I see you've got more company now, doc…" he said at last, still watching the screen beside him – waiting until Kate had moved out of earshot, before dropping his voice to a sadly admissive whisper.

"And I think I can guess who it is, 'cos… well, don't be mad at him, doc, but… see, Rodney told me... about your dad, I mean, and… well,you know already, that I lost mine too, when I was a kid… when I was the same age as you, in fact, so we never knew each other… in fact, the longest talk we ever had... well, I – I guess it was the time I had that damn bug round my neck, sucking the life out of me, and… well, let's just say I went through something kinda like what you're going through now…"

Pausing to re-compose himself, John then reached through that telltale glow to squeeze Carson's arm – offering the friend he regarded as a vulnerable younger brother one last piece of heartfelt advice.

"Looks like you're finding a lot to talk about too, doc… and I bet it just freaked you out at first, but… well, just make the most of this chance, Carson, you hear me…? I promise you, you _won_'_t_ regret it…"

Had that surrogate brother heard him…? More to the point, if he _had_, would he take any notice…?

Only time would tell, John Sheppard reflected, still studying that peaceful face. Only time would tell.


	9. Chapter 9

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's note: Ah, another chapter done and dusted ! Thanks to everyone for their reviews, it's been a great help ! Just to add there's a wee bit of reference made to Duet in this chapter, as poor Carson faces a challenge even worse than the Wraith... ;o)

Okay then, on with the show...

Chapter Nine

He'd never say it to McKay's face, of course. If he did, he'd never be allowed to forget it. But as he collapsed into blessedly cushiony heather, Carson had to admit he just may have been right. Maybe the appetite he'd always defended as being 'healthily hearty' _did_ need a little gentle pruning.

Judging by the amused glance from alongside him, his father had come to the same conclusion.

"If I'd known you were this unfit, son, we'd ha'e stayed with Melia in the village…" he said at last – the battle to keep his face straight finally lost to the breathlessly peeved huff he received in response.

"If I'd known we'd be hiking up the Pap o' Glencoe, dad, I'd have brought some bloody oxygen…!"

If he was looking for some fatherly sympathy… well, Carson Beckett was to be sadly disappointed.

"Aye, lad… one of the perks o' the afterlife is no needin' to breathe…"

Glaring at him through sweat-stung eyes, Carson kept any further comeback wisely to himself. He'd often wondered where his wickedly dry sense of humour had come from. Well, now he knew.

That shared humour was irresistible, though, and it wasn't long before he, too, lay in fits of laughter. What else could he do…? Here he was, sharing a hike through his subconscious with his long deceased father.

As if that wasn't freaky enough, he was cracking jokes too – about being dead, for crying out loud…! And, to Carson's utter chagrin, asking the question every unmarried son over thirty hated to hear.

"So then, son… have ye found a bonny wee lassie to keep ye warm at night…?"

Lying semi-asleep in the heather, it took ten clear seconds for Carson to catch his playful drift. Five seconds after that for his eyes to snap open. And five seconds on top of that before he managed to stammer out a thoroughly scandalized protest.

"_Dad_…!"

"Och, come on, son…! Just because I'm dead, dinnae think I don't still take an interest in ye…!" Taking full advantage of the stunned silence that followed, his father's eyes then glinted in evil mischief. "If there's no-one else, son, I rather think Melia has a bit of a soft spot for ye…!"

Oh, this was just great. First the jokes, then the dreaded 'girlfriend' thing, and now he was _matchmaking_…? Well okay, in the irreverent flippancy department, if nowhere else, two could play at that game.

"Aye, dad, I think you're right..." he conceded, with an innocence even John Sheppard would find hard to match – choosing his moment with the same mischievous skill, before delivering the equally dry punchline. "And Melia's a lovely lass, right enough… just a wee bit _old_ for me… _if_ you catch my drift…"

Even as delighted laughter rolled once more around him, Carson knew he wasn't safe yet. Along with that playful humour, he'd also inherited his father's tenaciously stubborn streak – a real godsend when faced with such recalcitrant patients as Messrs Sheppard and McKay.

To be on its receiving end, though… well, Carson already knew he was fighting a lost cause. No, he wearily realised, the only way to satisfy his father's curiosity was to come clean about Laura – although 'that' milestone in their relationship would go through some judiciously face-saving editing.

"Actually, dad, there _is_ someone… back on Atlantis, her – her name's Laura…"

Carson then breathed a sigh of pure relief as the dreaded 'first kiss' question failed to materialise. If anything, the eyes which now met his were serious again, in sympathy for an unspoken yearning.

"Ye must be missing her, son… missing _all_ your friends… and wantin' to go home…?"

Completely thrown by this sudden change in mood, Carson then dredged up a weary, rueful smile.

"Aye, dad, I am… but I – I can't go back yet, can I…? Not – Not while I still have all these…"

"...damn demons messin' up your head..."his father finished for him, gently ruffling his hair. "No, son, you cannae go home just yet… but you're almost there, Carsie… see yonder…?"

Squinting upwards, Carson then stared in astonished recognition of an unmistakeable circle of stone.

"The – The Stargate…!" he whispered, not even trying to hide the relief and yearning in his voice.

"Aye son, that's your gateway home…" his father agreed, favouring him with another gentle smile. "There's still these beasties, though, son, tryin' to block your way to it, so…"

Giving Carson's shoulder a rallying shake, he then gently hauled his nervous, uncertain son to his feet.

"Come on then, wee Carsie… let's go bag us some beasties…"


	10. Chapter 10

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's note - hm, computer crashes have their good points after all. Didn't get much done at work today, but on the plus side I managed to get another chapter finished, so here it is.

Keeping with the real life ages of Messrs Flanigan, Hewlett & McGillion (jeez, makes 'em sound like a law firm, sorry boys !), I've also made Rodney the 'middle brother' of our favourite terrible trio, if only by a few months. I'm not sure if that's in keeping with the series, since it's not been mentioned officially anywhere, but... well, please look on it as writer's licence. And with the amount of times he gets picked on, Carson makes such an adorable junior brother !

As always, I hope you enjoy !

Chapter Ten

"I wonder what he's dreaming about… what he's facing…" Elizabeth mused with a thoughtful smile – allowing herself a soft chuckle of laughter at the two equally irreverent replies that followed.

"Knowing Carson, he's probably got it tucked up in bed, force feeding it chicken soup…"

"Either that, or he's introducing it to the… uh… wonders of voodoo…"

Not that she blamed them for such lighthearted spirits. Not after that morning's truly wonderful breakthrough.

"Now, boys…" she said at last, casting as stern a look as she could manage across Carson's bed. "No fair to be picking on your little brother, when he's not even awake to defend himself…"

Unfazed, as always, John Sheppard and Rodney McKay merely shrugged in token obeyance – shared smiles growing into all out grins as they, too, enjoyed the new cause for optimism beside them.

As before, it had taken a while for them to see why Kate had called them so excitedly to the Infirmary It had, perhaps, been another quirk of Ancient fate that McKay had heard and spotted it first – a deep and soft sigh, the briefest twitch of still firmly closed eyelids, before the inevitable return to silence and stillness.

That had been just over five hours ago. Somewhat disappointingly, Carson hadn't moved again since. Neither had a certain scientist, who seemed intent on nagging his friend back to the living world. And while the entire city now shared his excitement, if not his impatience, for that moment to arrive – well, that hypervoluble scientist was now in serious danger of getting a sedative shot in the butt.

"Why hasn't he moved again…?" McKay demanded, oblivious to the dangerous roll of Kate's eyes. "I mean, we – we all saw him move, right…? And – And _you_ told us he was starting to come out of it. _You_ told us to keep talking to him, that – that he could hear us… so why hasn't he woken up yet…?"

As Kate's eyes drifted to the nearest meds tray, it was left to John Sheppard to mercifully intervene. And while a gentle cuff across the top of McKay's head wasn't quite the solution Kate had in mind, the result was thankfully the same as the regular bane of her life fell into sulkily pouting silence

"Because wherever he is, Rodney, he needs to _stay_ there, just a little longer…_okay_…?"

Winking at Kate and Elizabeth, in sufferance they understood _only_ too well, John then shrugged – driving the punchline home with about as much subtle delicacy as a Wraith stunner on full blast.

"And since you've been nagging him, _non_-_stop_, for the last five hours, he's _probably_ ignoring you…"

"Or at least enjoying the peace and quiet…" Elizabeth grinned, just as eager to join in the fun.

"Lucky bugger…" Kate muttered from where she stood checking Carson's eyes for reflex.

Feeling that three against one was just a tad unfair, McKay was all ready with the inevitable retort – Kate's voice silencing him more effectively than sedatives, head slaps and Wraith stunners combined.

"Carson…? Carson, it's me, it's Kate… can you hear me…? Carson, can you hear me…!"

It had come so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that for several moments no one could grasp its significance. Honour bound as their leader, it was Elizabeth who softly, excitedly, ventured the hopes of hundreds.

"Kate…? Is – Is he…?"

"Coming out of it a bit more…?" Kate finished for her, the broad smile on her face saying it all. "Aye, lass, he is… his eyes are becoming reactive again, and he just squeezed my hand, so yes… he'son his way back…"

Whether her patient would thank her what she did next, or throttle her, remained to be seen, but – well, Kate thought dryly, _he_ wasn't the one who now faced such hopeful, silently pleading blue eyes.

"He's still going through a hell of a lot, Rodney, so just bear that in mind…" she said at last – a warm smile making her next firm words less of an order and more of a friendly suggestion. "Just call him, like I did just then, just see if he can respond to your voice… okay…?

Nodding in strangely nervous agreement, McKay took over her gentle grip on Carson's left hand – the non-stop chatter of before now condensed into just a handful of soft, hesitantly stammered words.

"C – Carson…? Carson…? Can – Can you hear me…?"

The response had been so brief, so faint, that it had barely been detectable. But that didn't matter. It didn't stop the elated hugs and backslaps which now erupted along Carson Beckett's bedside. Because a voice that had been lost to them for almost two days had finally, faintly, made its way back.

"R – R'dn'y…?"


	11. Chapter 11

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's note - thanks again for all the latest reviews, they've made my weekend !

And to answer TierneyBeckett's question, according to the Internet Movie Database, Paul McGillion was born on 5 January 1969, sharing his birthday, if not the year, with Joe Flanigan, who was born on 5 January 1967. David Hewlett is nicely in the middle, born on 18 April 1968. I hope that helps !

Okay then, on with chapter eleven... and those surprises for Carson just keep on coming... ;o)

Chapter 11

"A right bloody bletherer, isn't he…? This Rodney…?"

That, Carson reflected through helpless laughter, took the art of understatement to a whole new level.

"Aye, he is that, dad… one of a kind, that's our Rodney…"

Studying his left hand, still tingling from its subconscious link between them, his smile then faded – his voice conveying the same regret that those few precious moments of contact back to the real world hadn't lasted longer.

"He's still a good friend, dad… even though he hurt me like hell, just before all this happened, and… well, I – I just hate this worry I'm causing him, dad… this worry I'm causing _all_ of them…"

"Aye, that's my wee Carsie… always frettin' over others, ne'er himself…" his father chuckled, favouring his son with a parent's unique combination of proud approval and gentle exasperation. "Ye havenae changed, son… in all these years, ye havenae changed a bit…"

"That's just it, dad… I _have_ changed… you know that as well as I do…" Carson replied softly – the resentment he'd always felt at its enforcement upon him simmering through his next words. "That sweet wee boy who'd bawl his eyes out if he so much as trod on an ant in the garden…? Who drove his mother spare each time another new pet that needed nursing came home with him…? He's all grown up now, dad. He's a doctor now. A _medical_ doctor, honour bound to save lives…"

Carson then swallowed hard, fighting a near impossible battle to hold onto rollercoastering emotions. When he finally spoke again, his voice was so quiet that the wind around them almost took it away.

"But he can destroy lives too, dad. On the whim of his mind, this doctor can commit mass murder…"

There was more to it, of course. So much more behind his anger and bitterness. His crippling terror. How to face it, though…? How to confront, and release, over thirty years of furious, bitter anger…? Just that brief outburst of it had left him physically shaking, his heart thudding with dizzying force. God knew how he'd handle the rest of it.

A gentle hand on his shoulder came as a surprise – and one hell of a welcome blessing.

"You really hate it, don't you, son…? This so very special gift you've been given…?"

Another priceless understatement. Except there was no laughter this time. Not even a flicker of a smile. Just the warningly rising voice of a son whose freefalling emotions now threatened to overwhelm him.

"That 'gift' ended up killing you, dad…! And it's probably going to get me killed too, and... and… damn it, dad, it – it killed you…! It killed you, it – it took you away from me, and mum, and… and… _yes_, dad… yes, I _hate_ it, this – this wonderful _gift_… and every bloody thing associated with it…!"

Back in the real world, anyone within the immediate area would have been running for cover by now. When Carson Beckett's eyes blazed as fiercely as this, you knew you were in trouble. _Serious_ trouble.

In the depths of his subconscious, though, a gently calming hand remained resolutely on his shoulder – the voice of its owner breaking through walls of pure fury, to the confused and anguished soul beyond.

"In that case, son, ye must hate me too… because I'm the one who allowed it to happen…"

Brief and to the point. And, in fatherly hindsight, very much the case of being cruel to be kind. But the wide eyed, astonished silence which resulted from it told Alex Beckett that it had worked.

He didn't do or say anything, though, to break that silence, or to interrupt its vital significance. Instead he offered his shellshocked son the same gentle smile he'd seen himself, many years before – squeezing his shoulder in slow, calming, soothing encouragement until, at last, Carson re-found his voice.

"You – You _allowed_ it to happen…? You – You _let_ it kill you…?"

Even as another patient nod and smile answered him, Carson still couldn't believe what he'd just heard. Everything he'd known, _thought_ he'd known, about his father's death, now crashed down around him.

Over thirty years of bitter anger and resentment, unimaginable terror, suddenly lost their focus – just as his legs, already rubbery from hours of strenuous hiking, now lost their ability to support him.

Catching him, just in time, Alex Beckett then gently eased his unconscious son onto the ground – allowing himself a rueful smile as, propping Carson gently against him, he fondly kissed the top of his head.

"Sorry, son… those bedside manners o' yours must ha'e come from your mother…"


	12. Chapter 12

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's note: I must admit I'm having an absolute blastwriting this story, and I'm so grateful for all the reviews and encouragement.

I'm going to try and get another chapter written up and posted tomorrow during my day off - might even squeeze in two !

Just a little reference in here for Thirty Eight Minutes - everything else stays the same.

Okay then, back to what passes in my sick and twisted little mind as the plot... ;o)

Chapter 12

He was finally settling again, which came as an immeasurable relief to those who watched over him. After two days of complete silence and stillness, Carson Beckett had just gone to the other extreme. He'd become so restless, so inexplicably agitated, that McKay had almost hit the ceiling in sympathy – his startled yell bringing everyone else in the Infirmary running excitedly to Carson's bedside.

"He – He's waking up…!"

Delight had rapidly changed to alarm, though, as that yearned for moment failed to materialise. And for Kate Buchanan, that alarm had gone much deeper than simple dismay at a friend's distress. The reassuringly steady signal on the heart monitor had suddenly gone haywire, and as for the EEG – well, even now, even as her patient thankfully quietened, its readings were still wildly erratic.

One in particular still held her attention as she gently fitted a small oxygen mask over Carson's face. To her medically trained eyes, those unnaturally elevated delta waves meant only one thing. The battle that was being waged inside Carson Beckett's mind had taken a highly significant turn.

Having fought a similar battle, John Sheppard had taken it upon himself to tag along on this one – drawing on that unique experience to guide a lost and vulnerable friend through its many silent terrors.

So when a fretfully out-flung hand swatted at the mask on his face, John was the first to catch it – holding it gently out of harm's way while trying to reassure and quieten its still restless owner.

"Whoa, easy there, doc… easy now… it's alright, Carson, wherever you are, you're safe there… nothing bad's gonna happen to you, you're going to be okay… that's it, just take it easy…"

It took several anxious moments, but eventually the restlessly stirring figure grew calm once more – feverish mutters dying into silence as Carson slid back into the depthless void of his dreams.

Whatever his captive subconscious had just thrown at him was still clearly affecting him, though – a now familiar, barely coherent word prompting another exchange of tired, resigned glances.

"He's still asking for his father…" McKay said at last, not even trying to hide his obvious frustration. "Guess he's not quite ready to wake up after all…"

Sharing his frustration, though not quite so openly, Kate gave his shoulder a heartening squeeze.

"No, Rodney, he isn't… but he _is_ getting there…"

"So you keep saying…" McKay snapped, too tired and dispirited to realise what _he_ was saying. Haunted by the last time he'd spoken to rashly, his face then fell into a wince of instant contrition.

"Sorry…" he whispered, his eyes drifting back to the once more still and silent figure beside him – the regret on his face expressing every part of the apology he wanted, and needed, so much to make. "I – I just wish he'd get there faster, just so I can… well…"

Patting his shoulder once more, assuring him there were no hard feelings, Kate then smiled.

"I know, lad… I know. Believe me, I want to see him wake up as much as you…" she said at last – waiting for some of the tension beneath her hand to ease before trying to ease it still further. "But bringing a human out of semi Ascension was'nae exactly covered in medical school…"

That won her a chorus of appreciative laughter – that of Rodney McKay the most welcome of all. And when he cracked a familiar insult in return, Kate knew this latest crisis of conscience had passed.

"You could always… um… try voodoo…"

"Din'nae ye tempt me, lad…" Kate shot back, trying to glare at him – and failing dismally. It was, after all, a bit tricky to be mad at someone when you were enjoying the same joke.

Instead she grinned back at him before turning back to check on her now thankfully calm patient – noting, in personal and professional relief, that his vitals had also settled to much steadier levels.

He was still deeply unconscious, of course, fighting God knew what in the depths of his mind. But whatever demons he'd found there, his father was still right alongside him, keeping him safe. And with _two_ Becketts to tackle now, instead of just one feisty wee doctor who had enough stubbornness for the entire galaxy...?

Oh yes, Kate thought with a proudly satisfied smile, those unseen demons didn't stand a prayer. With _that_ look on his face, there wasn't a thing on Earth, or off it, that Carson Beckett couldn't handle.


	13. Chapter 13

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's note: Just the one chapter to come today, and one that links to the backstory I gave Carson in Hope ReBorn. It goes, I hope, a little further in explaining why he has such a deep fear of the Ancient technology, and why he not only became a doctor but also chose to specialise in genetic research. Hopefully, Tierney, it'll answer your question from your last review... ;o)

There's a reference to one of my favourite scenes from Rising in this chapter, but everything else is still the same.

So on we go - and for all those who just _love_ their Becketts, here you get two for the price of one ! Enjoy !

Chapter 13

"I – I need to sit down…"

"Ye are sitting down, son…"

He was, too, but he was still too groggy, too fresh out of his faint, to remember how he'd got there – prompting a quiet chuckle of laughter, another gentle warning for their other hillside companions.

"There's still an awfu' lot o' sheep around, son…"

Glassy blue eyes suddenly regained their focus. The famous Beckett sarcasm regained its voice.

"Bugger the sheep, dad…! With what you've just told me, I need a bloody stiff drink…!"

"Aye, lad… yes, I imagine ye do… and a wee bite tae go with it, no doubt…"

Moments later, to Carson's fresh astonishment, a small glass appeared in one hand, while beside him – well, once he got back, he'd enjoy a smugly gleeful 'one up on you, son…' chat with a certain colonel.

Hungrily studying one of the biggest turkey sandwiches he'd ever seen, he then grew more serious – thoughts of home, his re-woken yearning to return there, causing his appetite to suddenly desert him. Instead Carson turned his head skywards once more, to the Pap of Glencoe's towering summit.

His gateway back to the real world, his _real_ home, was still there. Still reassuringly waiting for him. It was all part of this incredible journey, he supposed, that he should be working so hard to reach it. And it was so close now, so tantalisingly close. In fact, if he reached out, his fingers could just…

…close around yet another handful of fresh and sweetly heathery but still frustratingly empty air.

Dropping that hand back into his lap, Carson sighed while glancing self-consciously sideways – managing a trace of an appreciative smile for his father's consoling pat on his shoulder.

"I know, son… aye, I know it must be frustrating for ye, to be so close to home, but still so far. God knows, I felt the same way. But your journey's almost done, Carsie. You're almost home…"

Already thinking ahead, to a part of that journey's conclusionhe was silently dreading, Carson just nodded – forcing his mind back to deal with a discovery, a revelation which, literally, had driven him to drink.

He'd long suspected that his father's frequent 'holidays' from home hadn't always been truthfully explained. A unique bond between them, one which, only now, he fully understood, had told him that. And with what Carson had seen over the past four years, along with his father's own medical brilliance, it hadn't surprised him to learn that he'd not been the first Dr Beckett to be headhunted by the SGC.

That brilliance hadn't saved Alex Beckett, though, from a freakish mutation of the Ancient gene within him. Not even the SGC's incredible resources had been able to reverse the cancer which had ravaged his body with such brutal speed. It had taken his son's fury at his death, his own natural desperation not to suffer the same fate, to find the cure that would safeguard not only his life, but also that of an entire generation.

Finding all this out while journeying through his Ascended subconscious had shocked him enough, turning his entire world, Ascended or otherwise, completely on its head. Finding out, too, that a lifetime of anger had no justified cause… well, it took some getting used to.

He'd just downed a straight shot of Glenfiddich, and he _still_ couldn't believe what he'd just heard. On the verge of holding out his glass for a refill, Carson then sheepishly thought better of it. At this rate, he'd be so tipsy by the time he returned to Atlantis that he'd tap dance into the Gate Room

When he finally spoke, though, his stunned, still disbelieving voice was one hundred percent sober.

"And – And you _still_ took the mission…? Even though you knew about the cancer…? You – You knew that continuing to use the Ancient technology would – would make it irreversible…? And – And you still did it anyway…?"

"Aye, lad…" his father nodded, sadness and regret etched in his eyes as they met those of his son. "I'm just sorry it was so hard on ye, son… and on your mother, too, but… well, I had nae choice. I had to do whatever it took, to keep ye both safe… and just hope that in time ye'd understand…"

After all the tears and outbursts of anger, a stricken nod told him that understanding had finally come – prompting another gentle statement to release the vital process of healing which had to come with it.

"Ye can understand it now, son. You're a father yoursel' now, with your own family to protect…"

He'd spoken quietly, looking directly into his son's eyes without a trace of anger or criticism. Yet those words, however gentle, still shook Carson's heart with the force of their significance.

Yes, he'd understood. He'd understood, with breathtaking clarity, every word that his father had said. For the first time in his life, Carson understood the sacrifice he'd so selflessly, and willingly, made.

So much more needed to be said. A tide of pure, unstoppable emotion stopped him from doing so. All he could manage was another helpless, stricken nod before that tide rushed in to overwhelm him. Yet even as he gently pulled his distraught son into his arms, Alex Beckett was smiling. He knew the fear and anger which had haunted his mind for so long was finally loosening its grip.

Not that Carson could appreciate this vital moment of healing. He was in no fit state to even try.

Unseen by tear-filled eyes, another pivotal stage on this incredible journey was also passing unnoticed. Set against the horizon above them, another chevron on his gateway home had flickered into life.

"Aye, son, now ye understand…" his father said at last, soothingly stroking the back of his head. "Aye, now ye understand…"


	14. Chapter 14

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: The idea for this chapter has been niggling at me ever since Critical Mass. Teyla and her people are so gentle and spiritual. And since I've rather neglected her so far, I thought it was about time for Teyla to come in and make sense of things.

Reference made to Critical Mass, along with another wee link to Hope Re-Born. As always, I hope you enjoy !

Chapter 14

It was getting to the point where her Infirmary was becoming more like a makeshift camping ground. Not that Kate minded. It spoke volumes for the respect and regard in which Carson Beckett was held – not just by the rest of the Atlantis expedition but, perhaps more touchingly, by their Athosian allies.

In Teyla's absence, Halling had led the daily groups of quiet, reverent well-wishers to his bedside – overseeing their now familiar rituals of meditation and prayer for his Journey's safe conclusion.

Kate had raised no objection to the sweetly fragrant incenses and candles they'd used in those rituals. But, she now noted in silent amusement, a certain scientist may well have challenged their necessity.

He'd no doubt blame them as yet another example of 'voodoo medicine' for its current, addled state. But Rodney McKay's self-professed, brilliant mind had clearly gone on temporary walkabout.

"He's – He's crying again…"

"Yes, Rodney, I know. And there will no doubt be many more tears before his Journey is complete…"

Still watching the surreal sight of his unconscious friend in floods of tears, McKay just nodded – eventual recognition of the soft voice beside him bringing another completely pointless observation.

"Teyla…! You're – You're back…!" Realising what he'd said, he then pulled a face while tagging on a rueful, familiar afterthought. "Obviously…"

As gifted a diplomat as she was a leader, Teyla simply smiled warmly back at him and nodded. Squeezing his shoulder, she then glanced, somewhat awkwardly, around three equally tired faces.

"I am sorry I could not return from the mainland before now, but…"

"It's okay, Teyla, you had the Ring ceremony for Peta to take care of…" John Sheppard cut in – smiling across at her, with none of his usual flippancy, before nodding to the silent figure beside them. "It's okay, you know he'd understand that. He's seen how much it means to you, remember…?"

"Yes, he has…" Teyla nodded, smiling her appreciation for his support as she took Carson's hand.

There had always been a special bond between them, strengthened still further since Charin's passing. Regardless of his own safety, his own conflicted beliefs and emotions, he'd remained at her side – comforting and supporting her through one of the most harrowing experiences of her life.

Even without the special closeness between them, it was only right that she now do the same for him – especially since this equally sacred journey which he'd been taken on was proving so painful.

He'd thankfully settled a little, but tears of untold, private anguish still trickled down his cheeks – McKay's voice betraying the same degree of anxiety as he stared, almost helplessly, up at her.

"He's been like this for almost three days now, Teyla...! And all through this morning, he – he just hasn't stopped crying…"

"I know it is worrying, Rodney…" Teyla replied, reaching across to again squeeze his shoulder. "And I know it is difficult to see him like this, suffering such distress. But Carson _must_ face his fears. It is the only way in which he can truly defeat them. That is why he has been taken on this Journey…"

Waiting until he'd managed a faint smile of agreement, Teyla then nodded proudly around them.

"And he is not taking it alone, Rodney. His family is with him. He will draw strength from that…"

Nodding once more, McKay then blinked in some surprise at the sizeable crowd behind him. Among them stood a young woman who, he knew, held a very special place in his friend's heart – the nervous anxiety on her face prompting something of a minor miracle as he beckoned her forward.

"It's okay, Mir, he's going to be alright… yeah, he's gonna be fine, and… um… here, take my seat… you need it more than me, what with your… um… well, with your… um… _needs_, and – and all…"

Around him, pointedly ignored, stunned glances of pure astonishment were being exchanged. Mothers and children had the same effect on Rodney McKay as anything remotely related to citrus – this selfless gesture of gallantry prompting a five-way, deeply suspicious glance towards a nearby bowl of incense.

Seriousness returned, though, as all eyes drifted back to the now still and silent figure beside them. With his thirty sixth birthday now just hours away, Carson Beckett remained deeply unconscious – prompting another exchange of glances that shared one single thought, a united prayer of hope.

What were the odds of another, far more serious miracle blessing Atlantis in the next nine hours…?


	15. Chapter 15

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's note: Watching the SG1 two parter Moebius last weekend made me think - and that doesn't happen often, so I've made the most of it ! We know from his guest appearances in SG1 that our favourite scientist was assigned to the SGC before the Antarctica expedition, but what about Carson ? And why is he so reluctant to go off-world ?

So with spoilers here for Heroes, these are my thoughts for Carson's life at the SGC before Atlantis... I hope you enjoy...

Chapter Fifteen

From discoveries and realisations that had totally overwhelmed him, Carson had cried himself empty. Now a re-filled glass was back in his hand. And this time he didn't hesitate in downing its contents. Burning a fiery trail straight down to his stomach, it worked thankful wonders in clearing his head.

It took a few further moments, though, for its reviving strength to restore his powers of speech. And even then, his still emotionally charged voice could barely raise itself above a whisper.

"I'm – I'm sorry, dad, but all this, it's… it's just so much to take in…"

"I know, son… and ye don't need to apologise…" his father smiled, gently squeezing his shoulder. "Ye just need to _understand_, Carsie… accept your calling… and all that comes with it…"

"Aye, dad… aye, I'm getting that now…" Carson replied softly, managing a trace of a smile in return. One aspect of that calling then caused his cheeks to dimple, in shy pride, as he glanced at his father. "Just still can't believe I'm a dad… or – or that I'd love it so much…"

"Aye, lad, there's nothing better in the world than havin' a wee bairn in your life…" his father agreed, smiling too, in relieved approval this time, at the unabashed laughter that answered his next question. "So how is my wee Dochas…? Keepin' ye on your toes, I bet…?"

"Aye, she is that… just starting to crawl now, the wee bugger's into everything…"

Thinking back to when she'd been born, at another time in his life when he'd felt so lost and low, Carson then sighed – gathering his thoughts for a few moments before meeting his father's eyes with gratitude in his own.

"She's living up to her name, though… given us all hope… something to believe in… to fight for…"

"Aye, son, I know… she'll do that, right enough…" his father agreed, proudly patting his shoulder – adding his own, sadly reflective understanding for the helplessness within his son's next words.

"I just wish I could be sure of her future, dad. Just wish I'd brought her into a safer world than this…"

"Aye, lad, I know… it's a fear that every father feels, whoever or wherever he is…"

"Except I'm not like your normal, everyday dad… and neither were you…" Carson added softly, glancing at his father with acceptance in his eyes now, not the bitterness that had clouded them before. "Not many fathers have seen what we've seen, or – or know what we know…"

"No, lad… no, they haven't…" his father admitted, studying him with a smile of bittersweet pride. "I have to admit, Carsie, that was the most frustratin' thing for me to deal with when ye were born… seein' all the other wee bairns in their cribs, knowin' how normal they all were, while knowin'…"

"…that I wasn't…" Carson finished for him, his turn to offer gentle words of supportive comfort. "It must have been hell on you, dad… knowing what I'd been born into, but not able to share it…"

"To be honest, son, the hardest part was no' telling your mother…" his father admitted, smiling sadly. "Even then, before the Goa'uld, or the Wraith, the threat we were facing… well, you've seen it, son… you've been through enough now to ha'e seen it for yourself… the kind of enemy we're up against…"

Carson nodded once more, memories of what he'd seen at the SGC drifting, unwanted, into his mind.

Assigned primarily to lab-bound research into the Ancient gene, as well as his normal duties in the Infirmary, he'd gone off-world just once. Once had been enough, though. _More_ than enough. In fact, the horrors he'd seen that day had torn his heart apart, inflicting a scar on him which, he knew, would never fully heal.

When they'd left for P3X-666, Janet Fraiser had been at his side, gently settling those first time nerves. On their return, though, there had been no chance to thank her for them. There'd just the bloodied, shellshocked remnants of three SGC teams, bearing a single body bag between them.

He'd cried for her for days afterwards, her loss affecting him every bit as deeply as that of his father – a quiet voice, the gentlest hand on his shoulder, comforting him through a fresh wellspring of grief.

"She didnae die in vain, son… she died, just as she'd ha'e wanted to, savin' others. So did I…"

Too lost in memories to question his father's mind-reading talents, Carson just bit his lip and nodded.

Closing his eyes, he then bowed his head, breathing deeply until the images in his mind changed – a plain black bodybag transforming back into a laughing, bright eyed face full of beauty and life.

Remembering Janet Fraiser in the joy of life rather than the despair of death, Carson Beckett said goodbye to the woman he'd loved.

Unseen and unfelt in the depths of his memories, another ghost from his past finally lay settled to rest. Above him, a blur of blue light began its penultimate journey around a glowing circle of stone.


	16. Chapter 16

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's note: Since it's one of my favourite eppies, the events in Thirty Eight Minutes feature quite a bit here. Reference also made to Rising, The Defiant One, The Brotherhood and The Siege, part two.

As always, I hope you enjoy !

Chapter Sixteen

"Hell of a way to be spending your birthday…"

He sounded exhausted and dispirited, the familiar lightness in his voice noticeably absent. Not that Elizabeth could blame him as she settled into the other, vacant seat at their CMO's bedside. Just a week ago, John Sheppard had been gleefully planning 'one hell of a party', as only he could. No expense had been spared, or opportunity missed, to give their CMO a birthday he'd never forget.

With Kate Buchanan's astonishingly patient help, he'd become an expert on all things Scottish. He'd even persuaded Caldwell to sneak some extra goodies in their last batch of supplies – a request which, Elizabeth knew, the commander of the Daedalus had already agreed to anyway.

Then the Wraith had attacked. Carson Beckett had, yet again, been reluctantly shang-hai'd into active service. And those crates of Scottish goodies, just like cheerily bright blue eyes, had stayed closed ever since.

The familiar protest, too, had been sadly missed. As Carson Beckett was always so peevishly reminding him, he 'wasn't in the bloody military'.

For all the protests, though, Carson Beckett was still part of the team. A vital, pivotal part of _his_ team. And for all his bantering irreverence, John Sheppard took the welfare of that team seriously. _Very_ seriously. Seriously enough for himto risk Kate Buchanan's wrath by defying her exasperated order to 'get some sleep, Colonel, before you bloody collapse'.

Elizabeth didn't hold out much hope of succeeding in her place – but duty bound concern still compelled her to try.

"You should get some rest, John…" she said at last, gently squeezing a wearily slumped shoulder. "And I mean _proper_ rest, not just some chair-bound cat-nap… you look exhausted…"

That won her a welcome flash of a trademark grin as her second in command nodded towards the silent figure beside them.

"Careful, Elizabeth, or you'll be clucking over me as much as Carson…"

"Oh, _please_… I don't think that's humanly possible…" Elizabeth shot back, admirably straight faced – noting, in silent satisfaction, that John had also allowed himself a much needed chuckle of laughter.

The levity hadn't reached his eyes, though, or settled the fingers that still toyed absently at his throat – a metallic glint within them giving her the best clue yet as to why he'd refused to leave Carson's side.

"You're _not_ going to lose him, John…" she said at last, choosing her next words with typical care. "You heard what Teyla said earlier, he _will_ be alright… and I know you must be…"

"Thinking about Ford…" he cut in softly, meeting her eyes without the anger she'd silently dreaded. Instead the strain within them eased a little, in gratitude for both her compassion and her concern. "Yeah, it's been kinda hard not to, what with Christmas and New Year, and all…"

"Yes, I know…" Elizabeth agreed, her eyes betraying the same sadness even as she smiled back at him. Their first Christmas away from home had been painful enough, made more so by so many absences.

Aiden. Peter. Not forgetting Markham. Gaul. Abrams. And, of course, Marshall Sumner. All so sadly lost, to a brutal and ruthless enemy. All so sadly missed by those they'd left behind.

There was more to it than that, she knew. But Elizabeth resisted the urge to pursue the point further. To do so would only make her attempts to persuade him to open up all the more difficult. So instead she remained silent, using the time to gently stroke Carson's hair back from his forehead – flickers of contented awareness across his face eventually bringing an affectionate smile back to her own.

"Looks like he's dreaming again… and at least he seems more settled now…" she said at last, turning back to glean whatever clues she could from another face that was just as open, just as expressive.

"Yeah, he's been quiet for most of the morning… just mentions his… uh... dad… once in a while…"

The change in his eyes had been so brief, so fleeting, that if she'd blinked she would have missed it. It was a positive change, though, as they settled once more on the silent figure beside them.

"I've been through the same thing, Elizabeth… that's why I can't leave him…" he said at last – pausing for a few moments, re-gaining his composure, before confronting his own private demons. "Well, it – it wasn't _quite_ the same, I guess, but – but you remember that time back on the Jumper…? Those _other_ thirty minutes, before he… before Carson brought me back…?"

As she stared back at him, John met Elizabeth's wide, stunned eyes with grim sympathy in his own.

"I know what he's going through, Liz…" he added softly, turning tired and worried eyes back towards the bed. "I know what he's going through... and I know how hard it's gonna be for him to come back…"


	17. Chapter 17

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: Thanks so much for the reviews, they've been much appreciated !

Well, the journey's nearly over for Carson, but there's just a wee bit more soul searching for him to come in this chapter. As always, I hope you enjoy !

Chapter Seventeen

They'd started walking again, each taking their turn to talk, to listen and explain – and silently heal. Now Carson paused once more, turning to stare back along the laborious path they'd taken together. It had been hard, and it had been painful – but he knew the worst of it was now behind him.

The anger had left him now, allowing precious curiosity, clear headed understanding, to take its place. With that understanding had come a realisation, that terror and tragedy had prevented him from seeing. His father had died so that he, and millions of others, would live. In her own way, so had Janet Fraiser. That discovery had humbled him as much as it had healed him.

Carson now knew that, if faced with the same choice, the same decision, he'd do the same thing. There was still so much to resolve, though. Still so much for him to come to terms with.

Watching him in supportive sympathy, Alex Beckett now placed a gentle hand on his son's shoulder – patiently waiting for him to find and confront the final few demons that still haunted his mind.

"It's – It's just so hard, dad…" Carson said at last, his eyes still wistfully lost on the distant horizon – as though its craggy, reassuring permanence somehow held the answers he still needed so much to find.

Inspiration had clearly come from somewhere, since an albeit rueful smile now returned to his face.

"I – I mean, I'll fight like hell to protect my family, both back home on Earth and on Atlantis too. I'll die for them too, if I have to, just like you did for me, and mum. I – I understand that now, but… I'm a _doctor_, dad. I've taken an oath to _save_ lives, in whatever form, not take them, and it's so hard. It's just so hard, dad… having to use these powers that go against everything I believe in, when… well, whennothing I do to protect the people I love, those I care about, can keep them safe… however hard I try, dad, nothing I do makes the slightest difference… they – they just keep dying…"

"Aye, son, I know… but ye won't have that to worry ye for much longer…" his father replied – using the puzzled silence that followed to unlock another door in his son's still troubled psyche. "Why did ye do it, Carsie…? Why did ye become a doctor…?"

Still struggling to understand that first, cryptic comment, Carson stared back at him, totally thrown. Conceding defeat to its solution, for now at least, he then forced himself to concentrate on the second.

"To save my own neck, dad… to – to make sure that I didn't die of the same cancer that you did. I – I mean, when I found out I had the Ancient gene, I knew there'd be thousands of others like me. Thousands of others who'd been chosen, just like me, who'd possibly be at risk too, and… and… I – I had to do _something_, dad…! I – I couldn't just let an entire generation die the way you did…!"

The explanation-cum-apology then slid to a halt as Carson noticed the smile on his father's face – one that held a wisdom beyond a politely humouring hint that he'd _more_ than made his point. Time, he wryly decided, for him to, as a certain scientist would so charmingly say, 'shut the hell up'. Then again, his father's response, when it finally came, left him too surprised to say any more anyway.

"And you did a hell of a job, son… ye did me proud… just as I knew ye would…"

"I – I _did_…?" Carson stared blankly back at him, flattered and thoroughly confused in equal measure. That confusion only increased as a telltale blur of light regained its now familiar form at his side.

"Yes, Carson, you did… you have done all of the Ascended Ones proud…" Melia told him gently – the warm smile on her face expressing every part of that pride as she reached to take his hand. "You have granted us the most precious gift, Carson… and now we salute you…"

He knew it was rude, a real failing of his usual, impeccable manners. But Carson couldn't help it. He couldn't help staring back at her, all attempts to understand what she'd said miserably failing. Nor could he stop his mouth dropping open even more, at the astonishing sight that now met his eyes.

He'd seen it enough times on this remarkable journey to know what this swirl of light would lead to. But the sight of row upon row of glowing, approvingly smiling faces left him completely floored.

He'd clearly done something special, something remarkable, to have earned such a unique and moving honour. For the life of him, though, Carson Beckett couldn't even start to think what that something could be. Instead, he summed up his delight and embarrassed bewilderment in just two soft, heartfelt words.

"Holy crap…!"


	18. Chapter 18

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: I must admit this chapter has proven really hard to write, since I wanted to explain why the Ancients have given Carson this very special tribute. Then I watched Hide and Seek ( purely for research, of course... oh okay, yes, and the balcony scene just _may_ have swayed me too !) and had this idea for what, I hope, will be a viable reason for Carson's continued development of the gene therapy.

As always, I hope you enjoy ! And for victoriaely, thanks so much for the last review, I'm so glad you've enjoyed the character of Alex Beckett. I'm afraid this is the last chapter to feature him officially... but don't worry, he _will_ be back... ;o)

Chapter Eighteen

Credit. Appreciation. Gestures of approval he'd often silently yearned for, but rarely, if ever, heard. Now dozens of Ascended Ancients who'd already achieved immortality had stood in line to greet him. Little wonder, then, that a humble, human doctor was feeling more than slightly out of his depth.

As they moved through a final flurry of nods and handshakes, Carson glanced almost helplessly at his father.

"I – I don't understand…" he said at last, wishing he could make sense of this incredible tribute. "I – I mean, don't think me ungrateful, dad… all this, it – it's lovely, but… well… it's just that…"

"You're wonderin' what you've done to deserve it…?" his father supplied with a helpful smile – leaving it to Melia to explain as he steered his son back onto the path leading to the Pap's summit.

"Just like your father, Carson, you were born to a unique calling. You were chosen to protect our kind. For millions of years, we have struggled to protect ourselves, and the worlds we have come to inhabit. But as you have learned, at painful cost, our attempts to do so have not always been successful. Even with our advanced knowledge, losses against so many powerful enemies have been high…"

Glancing once more at his father, for both reassurance and guidance, Carson just nodded in return – his eyes, already wide in puzzled wonder, growing to the size of dinner plates at what she said next.

"Through your own loss, Carson, your own quest for survival, you have safeguarded the lives of millions…"

"I – I have…?" Carson frowned at her, still utterly lost, before a chink of realisation finally dawned. "You – You mean the therapy…? The process I developed, to – to give others the Ancient gene…?"

"Yes, Carson, that is correct…" Melia smiled back at him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Through its discovery, you have safeguarded not only your life, but also those of countless others. Thanks to your resourcefulness and courage, the destiny of the Ancients has been forever changed. Because of you, a whole generation of ordinary mortals now share the powers of the Chosen. They will now help you to fight the Wraith, and all enemies of our kind, until they are defeated. So you see, Carson, you _have_ made a difference… in more ways than you could ever imagine…"

"And you're no longer alone, son…" his father chipped in, hugging Carson gently closer to him. "Ye won't need to tear yourself apart, or let yoursel' be forced to do things that pain ye so deeply… leave the fighting to them now, son, and get yoursel' back to what ye do best… bein' a doctor…"

With so much to take in, to still try and understand, Carson simply nodded in distracted agreement – right until one of those last, quietly spoken words brought its significance crashing down on him.

"B - Back...?" he whispered, finding it suddenly impossible to meet his father's gently sympathising eyes. Instead he turned to stare behind them, tears of realisation already sliding, unchecked, down his face.

It was over. This incredible journey of discovery and understanding was finally, and inevitably, over.

From the moment his father had joined him on it, Carson Beckett had been dreading this moment. Now it had come. And it was proving every bit as painful, every bit as difficult, as he'd feared. His only comfort was that his father was now fighting to put on a brave face as much as he was.

"Aye, son… aye, it's time for ye to go back home now… back where ye belong…" he said at last – forestalling the inevitable, stricken protest with as much firmness as his own emotions could allow. "Ye _have_ to go back now, Carsie… the battle isn't over yet, son… you're still needed to fight it…"

Too overcome to reply, Carson just nodded, allowing his father to steer him, very gently, forwards. On the Stargate ahead of them, the final chevron that would take him home now locked into place – the spectacular beauty of its active wormhole for once unadmired by eyes too flooded to see it.

Melia's comforting hug, her soft words of reassuring encouragement almost passed unnoticed too.

"We will still be beside you in that battle, Carson… both of us will be fighting it alongside you…"

Too distraught to speak, Carson just nodded, allowing himself to be held in another gentle embrace – one he returned just as tightly, almost ferociously, as his father made him a soft, heartfelt promise.

"It's alright, Carsie, I'm here… I'll be here, son… always, to keep ye safe... I'll _always_ be here…"

He'd last said those words to a terrified little boy, soothing him to sleep after he'd woken, screaming, from yet another nightmare. They were the last things Carson Beckett heard before a tide of crushing tiredness rushed through him. Then everything went silent and dark, taking with it the sound of that little boy's uncontrollable tears.


	19. Chapter 19

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note:- Apologies, first of all, to hypercaz, and anyone else, who needed tissues for that last chapter - you should have seen the pile I got through while writing it ! Bit more angsty stuff to come for our favourite wee doctor, but some chuckles later on too, as the story heads for the home stretch. I'm still working on an idea for the final chapter, but all the ones preceding it are more or less finished, so they'll be posted soon. Including the final one, there's another nine chapters to come.

Just another very quick reference to Thirty Eight Minutes here, for a scene I've already touched on before.

Thanks so much for all the comments and encouragement, it's all been very much appreciated ! I hope you go on enjoying this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it :o)

Chapter Nineteen

They'd become so familiar during the last four days that their presence, however surreal, had grown equally comforting. The light that enshrouded him seemed to be protecting Carson from the many dangers of reality, just as his peaceful stillness confirmed the healing of an exhausted body and haunted mind.

Even McKay had come to grudgingly accept the steady, three-way beep on the monitor beside him. In fact it had become his friend, lulling him to sleep when exhaustion finally staked its claim – reassuring him with its precious, life-confirming sound when, as now, he drifted out of fitful dreams.

Except there was something different this time, something odd, that Rodney couldn't quite place.

…beep beep beep… beep beep beep… beep beep…

Three heartbeats.

…beeeeeeeeeeeep…

…be… beep beep… beep beep… beep beep… be…

Two heartbeats.

…beeeeeeeeeeeep…

…beep… beep… beep… beep… beep… beep…

One heartbeat. One single, slow and steady signal, now making its lone journey across the screen.

One heartbeat.

By the time he realised what had happened, McKay's anxious yell of alarm was no longer needed. This sudden change on their own monitors had already brought Kate and the rest of her team running – so much so that Rodney had to move fast to get out of their way as they surrounded Carson's bed.

To medically trained eyes, it was the blessedly reassuring sound of a normal, strong, healthy heartbeat. Unfortunately, the cautious smile on Kate Buchanan's face meant little to a physically and mentally drained hyper-hypochondriac.

"Why's it doing that…? What's happening, what – what's wrong with him…?"

"It's alright, Rodney, there's nothing wrong… quite the opposite, in fact…" Kate assured him, whatever she'd been planning to say next becoming lost in a collective murmur of hopeful relief.

"Yeah, it's okay, Rodney… yeah, I'm _kinda_ guessing this is a good sign…" John Sheppard agreed, still spellbound by the two pulsating columns of light which now slowly rose from Carson's body.

Guardedly hopeful, still cautious words – but they were all Rodney McKay needed to hear.

"You – You mean it's over…? They're – They're gonna let him wake up now…?"

Hating as she did to dash his hopes, Kate was already shaking her head even as she smiled back at him

"I'm sorry, Rodney, but no…" she replied gently, forestalling the inevitable protest with practised ease. "But it's alright, Rodney. His vitals are stable and normal again, and now he's just... well, sleeping…"

Those reassurances should have satisfied anybody. But then, Rodney McKay wasn't just anybody. He was a tired and anxious scientist who, if truth be told, only trusted the word of _one_ medical doctor. And that medical doctor, his friend and surrogate brother, was still as far away from him as ever.

"But he's been _sleeping_ for almost four days now…!" he said at last, unable to hide his frustration.

"No, Rodney, he's been in a state of semi Ascension… there _is_ a difference…" Kate corrected him – her next words spoken just as gently, yet still firmly enough to make her point inarguably clear. "Now he's in normal, and _natural_, REM sleep… and with what his body and mind have just been through, he'll likely be so for some hours yet…"

Finally realising it was pointless to argue, too drained and disappointed to try, McKay just nodded – his own needs, for once, taking second place to those of another as a muffled sob escaped from the silent figure beside them.

They'd seen it all before, of course, this stricken wince – the heart-rending tears that always followed. But the sobs which now shook through Carson's body were the loudest, most worryingly violent yet.

Watching him in helpless sympathy, two anxious friends traded glances of pre-knowledged concern. Earlier that morning, John Sheppard had talked, freely and emotionally, about his own experience – revealing to a shocked and shaken Elizabeth how part of him hadn't _wanted_ to come back.

After all that he'd been through, Carson Beckett now faced the same heartbreaking return to reality – prompting more grim faced words as a day of planned celebration drew to a far from happy, deeply worryingclose.

"Yeah, one _hell_ of a way to be spending your birthday…"


	20. Chapter 20

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note:- Okay, for all those who have been waiting, so patiently, for Carson to re-join the waking world, the wait's finally over. Word of warning, though, I'm not quite through with putting him through the emotional wringer yet, so tissue alert ! ;o)

Seriously, thanks so much for the latest reviews - I hope you enjoy this latest chapter too !

Chapter Twenty

His first awareness was the salty tang of a brisk sea-breeze, drifting refreshingly across his face. It felt wonderful, reviving memories that, for some odd reason, kept failing to fully re-connect.

Judging by the hushed argument beside him, though, one person at least didn't share that view.

"Are you sure those blinds should be open…? I – I mean, what if he gets cold…?"

"Then we'll _close_ them, Rodney… either that, or find some more blankets for him…" a familiar Scottish burr replied, its exasperation then giving way to softer affection, the contented conviction of being proved right. "Besides, the fresh air will do him good. And if you care to look, I _think_ you'll find he's enjoying it..."

Evidently he was, since Rodney eventually huffed in reluctant agreement before conceding defeat.

"Yeah, I – I guess he must be, if he's smiling…"

A few moments later came the sound of a fastening zipper – and the defensively peeved justification.

"Yes, well, _I_ feel the cold… _okay_…?"

There was another voice now. Elizabeth's voice, gently assuring him that he was safe, that he was going to be alright.

Alright from what…? Was he sick…? Hurt…? And why the hell did he feel so damn weird…?

Trying to answer these questions was proving too much of an effort, though, so Carson gave up trying. Instead he focussed his energy, such as it was, to a task that didn't need such painful demands – that of cautiously exploring the soft, smooth hand which held one of his own so gently within its grip.

The movements were little more than feeble twitches, but still enough for Elizabeth to feel them – her quiet, excited voice instantly ending the latest debate on Canadians being _supposedly_ used to the cold.

"John… Rodney… I – I think he's waking up…"

"With the noise McKay's making, the whole _city_'_s_ probably awake…"

He must have responded to John Sheppard's retort, since a flurry of voices now called his name – two, it had to be said, with more consideration for his aching head than the jarring demands of another.

"Carson…? It's me, it's Elizabeth… it's alright, Carson, you're safe… you're home…"

"Carson…? Hey, you're - you're _really_ waking up now…? _Carson_…!"

"Easy, Rodney, remember where he's been, what he's gone through… just go easy on him, _okay_…?"

He still didn't know what they were talking about. Why they sounded so tired beyond their open relief. But one word that Elizabeth had used to reassure him had been enough to rouse his exhausted mind, giving him just enough strength to force his eyelids open, struggling to focus them on the hazy faces beside him as he whispered a poignantly hopeful reply.

"I – 'm… h – h'me…?"

"Yes, Carson, you're home… you're safe, and you're finally home…" Elizabeth assured him gently, smiling through the paradox of niggling concerns as she watched him dazedly take in his surroundings.

She'd meant Atlantis, of course. The grim sympathy on John Sheppard's face told her he knew that too. But to their CMO's still confused, still so vulnerable mind, home meant somewhere else completely. A place of impossible sights and sounds and memories, the love of cherished company. A safe haven of peace and happiness which was no longer within his reach.

To their dismay, Carson was already shaking his head, his voice rising in uncomprehending panic.

"No, _h_'_me_…! H – H'me, wi'… wi' my da'…!"

He was becoming more and more agitated, the heart monitor beside him already chiming in response – Kate's brisk, grim faced intervention causing those stricken blue eyes to close, alarms to fall silent, with merciful speed.

Yet even as he quietened, the nightmare of a frightened, disoriented mind refused to release him – tearful, increasingly faint whispers following Carson into the instant, merciful void of sedated sleep.

"H'me… wan' to… to be… h'me, wi'… wi'… da'…"

At his bedside, four shaken friends traded glances, struggling to come to terms with what they'd just seen and heard. For the moment they'd so anxiously waited to see to end like this – no, it was just too cruel. Too unfair.

Elizabeth's eyes had brimmed with tears that she made no attempt to hide. The same went for Kate. Still staring at his friend in numb disbelief, Rodney McKay was, for once, completely lost for words.

It was, perhaps, destined by fate that John Sheppard should finally break the silence between them. And rarely had two words summed up so much worry, so much dismay. Such heartfelt, bitter concern.

"Oh, _crap_…"


	21. Chapter 21

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: Another tissue alert here ! Poor Carson, I do make him suffer, don't I ?

Just a slight reference to Before I Sleep for this chapter. As always, I hope you enjoy - and thanks as always for the reviews !

Chapter Twenty One

She was missing his smile. Not the unnaturally forced smile that now pasted itself into place. No, she was missing his _real_ smile – the one which brought those charming dimples into his cheeks.

Then again, Elizabeth sadly reflected as she took her seat beside his bed, her own was just as false – the awkward silence that followed clearly as unsettling and frustrating for him as it was for her.

If truth be told, all Carson wanted to do right now was curl up in a ball and just be left the hell alone. All he wanted to do was sleep, but each time he tried… well, it was easier, less painful, to stay awake.

He hated feeling like this. It just wasn't in his nature to feel as miserable, so bloody miserable, as this. Then again, there were a lot of things that he hated right now.

Fortunately for him, and a treasured friendship, Elizabeth hadn't picked up on his simmering anger. Or, if she had, she was being diplomatic enough to keep the hurt it would cause her from showing. She couldn't hide her concern for him, though, or her worry, no matter how brightly she smiled. And however miserable he felt, the compassionate heart of Carson Beckett couldn't have that.

"Sorry, lass, I'm – I'm… well, I'm just not… not the best of company right now…" he said at last – tears that had become his constant companion threatening to spill over yet again as she took his hand.

"You only regained consciousness two days ago, Carson, and you've been through one hell of a lot. No one's expecting you to just bounce back and… well, as someone once said, dance a bloody jig…"

That won her just a trace of more genuine smile as Carson sighed and nodded in weary agreement. It felt ridiculous that he'd spent almost five days in deep coma, yet should still feel so damn tired.

"Aye, lass, I know… John said the same thing…" he replied softly, still absently fingering her hand. Its contact seemed to settle him a little, since his next visitors were met with a much easier smile – even a soft chuckle of laughter at the 'butter-wouldn't-melt' protest of one of those visitors.

"Whatever you're accusing me of doing, doc, you can bet McKay's behind it…"

"Yeah, I usually… _hey_…!"

If he'd not been so tired and distracted, Carson may have found all this just a little _too_ entertaining. It had been Kate Heightmeyer's idea, as this worrying refusal to talk through his experience continued – to try and coax him into opening up through situations too familiar to arouse his suspicions.

To the relief of three tired and worried co-conspirators, her suggestion appeared to have worked – a handful of wearily chuckled words now prompting an exchange of startled yet hopeful glances.

"Aye, lad… aye, he usually is…"

From the sulky silence that followed, phase two in this subtle conspiracy now slipped into action.

When Rodney McKay was upset, or stressed, which was pretty much all the time, he turned to food. Watching him now rip six bells out of a hapless power bar didn't just make Carson smile, or roll his eyes. As welcome as these were to see, a long glance to the table beside him was most welcome of all – especially when a tentative hand out to it returned with a small parcel from an untouched lunch-tray.

With so much cellophane around it, obscuring its view, he'd not been able to guess its contents. Carson just knew it was a sandwich of some kind – and that he was hungry enough now to eat it. In fact, he was hungry enough to leave the never-ending swathes of wrapping on there, and just…

Carson froze, staring down at the semi-revealed parcel in his hand out of wide, incredulous eyes. Beside him, three cautiously hopeful smiles froze too, turning as one into puzzled, anxious frowns.

"Carson…? Carson, are you alright…?" Elizabeth asked at last, risking a gentle squeeze on his arm.

Still lost in time-locked memories, Carson didn't reply. He didn't move either. He didn't even blink.

When he finally did speak, the telltale tremors in his voice did little to ease their rising concern.

"S – Sandwich… on – on our hike, we… we ate… ate… t – turkey sandwiches…"

The next question was obvious. But its asking, and eventual resolution, was going to have to wait. For whatever reason, the sight of a favourite sandwich had left Carson Beckett in floods of tears.

Yet even as she held him close, trying in vain to comfort him, Elizabeth still found a chink of hope – because John Sheppard's eyes, however tired, were also sending her a message of silent assurance.

'_He_'_ll be okay now_, _Liz_… _now that he_'_s_ _let himself remember_, _he_'_ll be okay_…'


	22. Chapter 22

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: Okay, I think we've had enough tissues ! Things are going to start lightening up now, but first... well, a certain wee doctor's about to cause a bit of a stir. You'll find out how in the next chapter, but for now, I hope you enjoy this one !

Chapter Twenty Two

He was getting there. Slowly, still sometimes painfully. But Carson Beckett was getting there.

Much of that progress had come in time honoured tradition, with his return to familiar surroundings. Two days earlier, he'd been released to continue his recovery in the sanctuary of his quarters. Thanks to two hyper-protective surrogate brothers, he'd been left, undisturbed, to sleep and heal. In fact, to Elizabeth's vainly hidden amusement, her recuperating CMO still looked half asleep now – a thick mop of gloriously tousled hair bearing an uncanny resemblance to that of a certain colonel.

Carson must have thought the same thing, since a hand now rose to try, in vain, to tame it into order.

"Aye, it… uh… needs a bit of a trim…" he admitted, ruefully giving up the fight as he led her inside.

"Actually, Carson, the whole 'just out of bed' look rather suits you…" Elizabeth assured him with a diplomat's natural charm – one returned through a grin which, to her silent relief, was the most genuine she'd seen that week.

That improvement, she proudly reflected, was mainly thanks to her CMO's renowned resilience. Credit also had to go, of course, to the family who'd closed ranks so supportively around him.

That family had already arrived for their now customary lunch together in Carson's quarters – Teyla's smile returned just as warmly, while John and Rodney both intuitively rose from their chairs.

Today's location, on a breezy and sunlit balcony, was certainly making the most of a glorious day. And, to its newest arrival's open relief, Carson was enjoying its benefits more than anyone else. He was finally eating again. And while turkey sandwiches remained off the menu, there was still plenty to tempt a returning appetite – a generous bowl of salad giving John Sheppard's laden plateful of hot-dogs a fair run for its money.

"Sitting out here on your front porch looks to be good for you, Carson…" Elizabeth said at last, gratefully noting the healthier colour in his cheeks as she settled into her allotted seat beside him.

"Aye, lass, there's nothing better for you than good food and fresh air…" Carson agreed softly, a wistful sigh reflecting another wonderful meal, albeit one enjoyed only in the depths of his mind.

It had all seemed so real, though. So vital to his survival. So vital to _everyone_'_s_ survival.

Gradually aware of concerned faces around him, he then smiled, adding a self conscious apology.

"Sorry, lass, I – I was miles away… _again_…"

"No need to be, Carson…" Elizabeth assured him, watching his face for any telltale signs of upset – breathing a shared sigh of relief when her next cautious words caused his smile to actually widen. "Besides, you looked happy, wherever you were… you were… um… remembering…?"

Still lost in memories, Carson then sighed and nodded, his smile turning charmingly sheepish.

"I – I just still can't believe that it was all in my head… even now, it – it just seems so real…"

"That is because it _was_ real, Carson. It _had_ to be, for it to serve its purpose…" Teyla explained quietly, smiling back at him while reaching across to take his hand with the same encouraging gentleness. "You have been through so much pain, Carson. Lost so much of your life to silent fear and anger. That is why your Journey took so many days to complete. You needed that time to heal, to accept your gift…"

"Yes, Teyla, I know… I – I understand that now…" Carson replied, his voice just as reverently soft.

Yet there was something different in that voice, something different about _him_, as he suddenly rose from his seat. Oblivious to the puzzled glances he'd left behind, he then strode briskly across to the nearby railing – leaning against it while he stared out at the ocean, allowing its hypnotic beauty to re-settle his mind.

He could hear them again now, right alongside him. Just as Melia had promised they would be. Voices that had once left him crippled with grief revived him now, with new strength and purpose.

_Aye, Carsie, ye've accepted your gift now_… _but dinnae think ye have to keep it all to yoursel_'…

_The strength you need to survive is within you_, _Carson_._ It always has been_._ Trust it_._ Use it wisely_…

It was, too. Carson could feel it now, deep within him. The re-awakening of truly incredible, physical and mental strength. That strength radiated from his eyes as he finally turned back, to meet four quizzically expectant faces.

"I know something else too, that I didn't… no, _couldn_'_t_, appreciate, until now…" he said at last – those newly revitalized eyes remaining calm and steady, even as others widened in startled surprise. "Until now, I've been too bloody stupid to recognise this incredible gift I have for what it truly is. But I recognise it _now_. I know _why_ it's been given to me. It's going to help us beat the Wraith..."


	23. Chapter 23

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: Sorry, victoria, for being such a tease ! Okay, to put you out of your misery, here's the chapter where we find out what our favourite wee doctor is up to. Thanks as always for the review, and I hope you enjoy !

Chapter Twenty Three

"No…! _No_…! _No way_…! Absolutely _not_…!"

It was a protest she'd heard an immeasurable number of times. Just never from this particular doctor. And while she understood the reason for its vehemence, Elizabeth Weir knew something else too. That protest, however well intended, however protectively concerned, hadn't been his to give.

"Rodney… _please_…"

Waiting for him to acknowledge her, albeit grudgingly, Elizabeth then turned back to Carson – silently hoping that the plan he'd just put so confidently forward hadn't just been blown out of the water.

"And you're sure about this, Carson…? You're sure you want to do this…?"

Blue eyes that, just moments before, had blinked in startled dismay now regained their resolve. Carson's voice, too, although still as soft as ever, also held no room for further debate.

"Yes, Elizabeth. Yes, I'm sure. I've never been more certain of anything in my entire life…"

She was already smiling back at him, nodding her approval. So was John Sheppard. So was Teyla. Yet however crucial their approval was to him, the backing of another valued friend meant even more. And it was obvious, from his further vexed protests, that Rodney McKay was still far from convinced

"But – But it means linking you to the Chair's interface, Carson, for – for God knows how long...! I – I know what it feels like now… what it does to you, and the pain it causes you, and… and…"

"Yes, Rodney, I know you do…" Carson cut in softly, smiling across at him with the same gentleness. "And the courage it took for you to put yourself through that is something I'll never forget…"

As he'd hoped, any further argument that may have been planned fell into stutters of flattered disbelief

"It – It _is_…? I – I mean, you _won_'_t_…?"

"No, Rodney, I won't… I know what you went through. I was there too, remember…?"

Their eyes met and held this time, carrying the new understanding that had been forged between them. Within that bond, forgiveness was sought for a still stricken conscience – and given just as freely.

"Yes, you were…" Rodney conceded at last, his next words combining relief with peeved indignation. "You… called me a daft bugger…"

"Wouldn't be the first time…" John Sheppard chipped in, with just a tad too much of a helpful smile – one that grew into a deliciously wicked smirk at the speed, and rueful certainty, of Carson's response.

"Aye, lad, and I doubt that it'll be the last…"

Elizabeth was grinning too, finding it impossible not to laugh at this truly wonderful exchange. Just days before, she'd feared she'd never enjoy such exchanges again. And beyond that priceless pout, she knew that Rodney, for his own reasons, would feel the same way.

All brotherly bickering and sulking scientists aside, though, Carson's plan still had to be addressed – the calm authority of a natural leader gently steering them back to its delayed conclusion.

"It's an excellent plan, Carson, but it's going to take a lot out of you… an _awful_ lot…"

"Aye, lass, I know…" Carson agreed softly, the eyes that met hers now set in complete determination. "But I know I can handle it. And it's the best chance yet of giving the Wraith one hell of a fight…"

Amid nods of agreement, McKay's hesitant voice still raised the inevitable, still lingering concerns.

"And – And you're sure it's not going to do anything… I – I mean, that it won't…?"

"Hurt me…?" Carson cut in softly, a squeeze on McKay's shoulder as gently inspiring as his smile. "No, Rodney, it won't… trust me, it _won_'_t_…"

Just the slightest emphasis on a single word had been enough to convince a fretfully anxious friend. As with every other major decision on Atlantis, though, the final word lay with Elizabeth Weir. So in the true spirit of family, all eyes now turned expectantly towards her, awaiting her decision.

She'd heard some outlandish ideas in her time, of course. This one from her CMO was no exception. Medical brilliance had already enabled him to give the Ancient gene to hundreds of others on her team. That alone had swung the odds of their survival against the Wraith more healthily in their favour, giving so many others the ability to use the Ancients' unique technology..

Now he'd made this incredible proposal, to harness and then share as yet untapped powers within him.

The determination in Carson's eyes had given Elizabeth her answer, though, long before she gave it herself.

"Okay, Carson… as soon as you're fit enough, you have a go…"


	24. Chapter 24

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: Okay, this chapter is a wee bit longer than the others. Each time I thought I'd finished it, another idea popped into this sick and twisted mind of mine which, of course, I had to take further.

There's a very brief reference to Rising here, just to set the scene. Thanks as always to Rox for her continued support... and on with the show !

Chapter Twenty Four

As he stood beside it, pensively fingering one of its armrests, Carson allowed himself a rueful smile. He'd never make light of the Chair's power, of course, but… had he _really_ been so terrified of it…? So needlessly terrified of something which, to these now wiser eyes, was so incredibly beautiful…?

Its workmanship alone, its delicate intricacy, fascinated him as he continued to gently trace its contours and outlines. It had protected him too, of course, shielding him from one _seriously_ miffed pilot back in Antarctica. It had changed his life, in ways he'd never imagined. Now it was set to change that life even more.

Little wonder, then, that it took several gentle calls of his name to break the depth of his thoughts.

"Carson…? Carson, are you alright…? If you need more time, more rest…"

Startled for a moment, Carson then met Elizabeth's concerned eyes with a shyly self conscious grin.

"Sorry, lass… aye, I'm fine… just doing a wee bit of woolgathering…"

"Yeah, what _is_ it with you Scots and sheep…?" McKay chipped in, completely straight-faced – a masterclass of deadpan self control which, needless to say, didn't last for very long.

Starting with John Sheppard's helpless snigger, a wave of laughter swept through the Chair Room, lifting an undercurrent of tension which, if truth be told, had silently plagued everyone in it.

Still giggling from no end of possible answers, Carson then cast his friend a grin of grateful affection.

"You _really_ want to know, Rodney…?" he asked, bright blue eyes speaking volumes of mischief.

"With _that_ grin on your face…? What, do I _look_ like an insane masochist…?" McKay shot back – a lethal glare in his direction persuading John Sheppard to keep his mouth very wisely shut.

It was a debate that _had_ to be continued, of course – and it no doubt would be, with great hilarity. But as gradually fading grins and laughter testified, far more serious matters had to be resolved first. Radek Zelenka's voice from behind them, for all its typical quietness, still sounded unnaturally loud.

"Dr Weir… Rodney… Carson, we – we are ready…"

Having cleared more medical checks than even _he_'_d_ thought existed, Carson Beckett was ready too – his standing as mother hen extraordinaire coming under serious threat as McKay fussed and fretted around him.

"You sure you're up to this…? I – I mean, we're green to go from this end, but…"

"Rodney, believe me, I'm fine…" Carson assured him, reassuring his anxious friend as only he could. "If I said 'trust me, I'm a doctor…' and did a wee voodoo dance, would _that_ help you feel better…?"

"Not really. I've seen you dance…" McKay shot back, taking the art of deadpan to a whole new level.

Blushing reached a whole new level, too, as Carson's face matched the redness of Elizabeth's shirt – soft mutters about needles, the bluntest he could find, warning McKay he'd pay for that one, _big_ time.

Watching this latest round of brotherly insults, Elizabeth couldn't hide a wry, proudly knowing smile. Twelve days ago, she'd watched Atlantis' most entertaining double act in action, just like this.

There were differences, of course. At least the ceiling wasn't falling in on them this time around. And, she hoped, Rodney would have learned his lesson sufficiently to be _slightly_ more sensitive.

The greatest difference, though, one that still astonished her, came from that double act's other half. Outwardly, he was the same striking young doctor who'd impressed her so deeply at the SGC – the dark hair as charmingly tufted as ever, the blue eyes still holding hers in rock-steady calmness.

Yet there was a depth of wisdom within those eyes now, an intensity, that hadn't been there before – recognition of the courage beyond prompting her, just as she'd done twelve days ago, to take his hand.

"Okay, Carson, it's all yours. Just try and stay with us this time, okay…? And _no_ heroics, you hear…? I mean it, Carson… the slightest sign of trouble, and we're bringing you back… okay…?"

Even as he nodded agreement, Carson couldn't resist teasing her too as he settled back into the Chair.

"Heroic…? _Me_…? God forbid…"

Enjoying that grin too much to think about scolding him, Elizabeth found herself returning it instead. Her next words, though, were totally serious as she leaned in closer, to meet and hold Carson's eyes.

"Good luck, Carson… and for God's sake, be careful…"

"I will, lass, I promise… don't worry, I'll be fine…" Carson assured her, squeezing her hand – this contact encouraging them both as Kate set to work with an alarming number of monitor wires.

"If you so much as sneeze, Carson, I want to know about it…" she explained, seeing his reaction – her attempts to sound business-like really not helped by her countryman's equally feisty humour.

"If I sneeze with that lot round me, Kate, I'll bloody strangle myself…!"

"Hey, it's for your own good, doc…" John Sheppard chipped in, always ready to help a friend in need. "I mean, if you go all Ascendy on us again, we need some way of keeping you grounded…"

Judging by the glare he received in return, that eager beaver helpfulness needed a little fine tuning.

"Yes, thank you, Colonel…" Carson retorted just as dryly, his expression just as innocent. "I can get myself in trouble quite nicely on my own, thank you, without any help from you…"

"You do, son, and you'll have _me_ to answer to…" Kate shot back, raising a meaningful eyebrow – allowing herself just a trace of a triumphant grin as her patient fell wisely, and very rapidly, silent.

That silence then spread throughout the room as the final EEG pads were gently pressed into place. As welcome as it had been, everyone in that room knew the time for fun and games was over. For Carson Beckett, cocooned in monitor wires and sensor pads, there was no turning back now. And for Elizabeth Weir, time didn't just seem to stand still, it actually reversed back on itself.

Her CMO's eyes held the same other-worldly calmness that she'd seen twelve days ago. But at least this time she knew where that calmness had come from. She knew where it was about to take him. And at least she had the chance to make a final heartfelt plea as she watched those eyes begin to close.

"Be safe, Carson… and be careful…"

A slight nod, an almost beatific widening of his smile, assured her that her words had still reached him. Less than a minute after that, though, and Carson Beckett lay far beyond even the most heartfelt of prayers.

For Elizabeth and McKay, the sight of their CMO falling into this depthless sleep was already familiar. But it was unsettling, to say the least, for first time eyes to see Carson's face fall so suddenly slack – its rapid loss of both colour and expression doing little, if anything, to lessen John Sheppard's concern.

"This _is_ normal, right…?" he asked at last, hoping a flash of humour convincingly masked his unease. "I mean, he went like this last time, before the whole freaky glowy thing…?"

Apparently he'd succeeded, since Elizabeth was already smiling, albeit still tensely, to reassure him.

"Yes, John, this is exactly what happened before, except by this point…"

"…he'd also started on the… uh… scientifically eloquent freaky glowy thing…" McKay chipped in – clearly relieved, beyond his flippant mimicry, that the same thing hadn't happened this time around.

Before the inevitable retaliation could zing back at him, though, a much higher power duly intervened.

They'd all been expecting it, of course, this unnatural glow which again surrounded Carson's body. So it didn't need saying. Everyone knew what had just happened, they'd seen it with their own eyes.

But as the smugness instantly fled from McKay's face, John Sheppard dryly muttered it anyway.

"And the scientifically eloquent term for 'smartass timing' would be…?"

"Still working on it…" McKay shot back, working his bank of computers with the same urgent speed. On a bench alongside, an equally grim faced Kate Buchanan was checking her own, the anxious concentration on her face gradually giving way, in palpable relief, to a cautious smile.

"It's alright, Colonel… his vitals are still normal, and stable, and he's not in any pain…"

"And Carson said himself that he knew no harm would come to him…" Elizabeth pointed out, this gentle reminder settling all their nerves as all eyes returned to the motionless figure beside them.

No sooner had their nerves settled, however, than the glow around Carson's body suddenly intensified. At its brightest around his head, it then began to pulsate, slowly at first, then with increasing speed.

Then it happened. As Carson Beckett remained in motionless oblivion to it, all hell now broke loose around him.


	25. Chapter 25

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: Hmmm, wasn't that mean of me, to leave you last time on such a cliffie…? See what happens when you decide to watch The Siege as part of your… um… _research_, and think 'ooooh, cliffhanger…! I'd like to write one of those…!'

So we'd better find out what's happened to our favourite wee doctor, hadn't we…?

Another quick reference to _that_ scene in Rising (you're seeing a pattern developing here, right…?) along with a missing scene at the SGC, just my thoughts on Elizabeth's first encounter with Carson, and how she came to choose him for her team..

Now, where were we…? Oh yes… cliffhangers… just gotta love 'em… ;o)

Chapter Twenty Five

They'd expected it, of course. They'd prepared, as much as possible, for what had just happened.

For every monitor in the room to suddenly go haywire, though, had _not_ been part of the plan. Amid the frenzied activity which had erupted around them, a lone voice now cut effortlessly through it.

"No, wait…! It's – It's okay, this is what he wants to do. This is what Carson knew would happen…"

Still animatedly checking his monitors, McKay then threw up a hand, commanding instant order – his turn to blink, in startled surprise when, for once, this demand for quiet wasn't snarkily ignored. Instead all eyes turned in complete, hopeful seriousness towards him, waiting for him to continue – John Sheppard's quiet voice the first to make sense of the excitable scientist's unusual calm.

"You're tuned in with him, right…? Because of that mind-link you made with him last time…?"

Rodney McKay was never happier than when at the centre of attention, yet now he just nodded – his concerns, for once, completely focussed on the well-being of someone other than himself.

"He's okay…" he said at last, echoing the same assurances that Carson himself had made earlier. "Carson's okay, he – he knows what he's doing… he knows none of this is going to hurt him…"

"And at least he hasn't launched a load of drones…" John agreed, also pensively studying his friend – memories of one hell of a flight over Antarctica prompting a rueful, somewhat uneasy afterthought. "_Yet_…"

"He's come a long way since then, John… learned to control his abilities…" Elizabeth replied softly, their warmth making her words less of a rebuke and more a simple statement as she smiled up at him. "I have to admit, though, it staggers me… remembering the first time I met him, to see how far he's come…"

"Yeah, I can imagine… you and Rodney have known him a lot longer than I have…" John agreed – conceding the point, as only he could, as curiosity caused one of his eyebrows to quirk upright. "Don't tell me he fired a rogue drone at you too…?"

"No, not exactly…" Elizabeth conceded in turn, her next words threaded with bittersweet pride. "Halfway through his interview at the SGC, three off-world teams returned with heavy casualties. Carson heard the call go out, and the next thing I knew, he was on his way to the Gate Room…"

Enjoying the wryly knowing grin on her second in command's face, her own widened just as proudly.

"I'd been struggling until then, to make my choice, but as soon as I saw him run out of that room… well, I knew I didn't have to interview anyone else. I knew I'd found my CMO for the mission to Antarctica…"

"Yeah, way to go on that, Liz…" John murmured, a brief twinge at his conscience remaining unvoiced. When he'd first joined her team, he'd had serious misgivings over Carson Beckett's role within it.

Within days of arriving on Atlantis, though, every one of those doubts had been replaced with pride – a humbled admiration which, even now, so many months after their arrival, still continued to grow.

Elizabeth's words, however proudly she'd spoken them, had merely tipped a Titanic sized iceberg. Oh yes, John mused, that jittery bundle of Scottish nerves had, indeed, changed beyond recognition.

Carson Beckett, as Elizabeth had said, _had_ come far. Perhaps, he reflected sadly, he'd come _too_ far. Their CMO had seen things, been forced into decisions and actions, that went against all he believed in

That he'd avoided burn-out, an occupational hazard which John himself had seen, all too often – well, it spoke further volumes for Carson Beckett's courage, his astonishing strength of character.

That strength of character had already survived one incredible challenge. Now it faced another.

Speaking of burnout.

Acrid smoke now invaded John Sheppard's senses, leaving them, and his thoughts, reeling in shock. Beside him, Elizabeth's mouth dropped open too, in rising alarm at the sight which now met her eyes.

Overloaded with immeasurable power, one of McKay's computers had erupted in a shower of sparks. That alone had triggered yet another flurry of activity as the rest of his team came instantly running.

Yet that drama paled into insignificance as, almost dreading to do so, Elizabeth glanced to her other side – more grateful than she'd ever been, or ever would be, for John Sheppard's supportive arm around her.

"Oh, my God…"


	26. Chapter 26

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: Okay, okay, so I'm now _officially_ mean, with giving you two cliffies in a row :o) So I guess I'd better make up for it and reveal what chaos and calamity our favourite drone-launching doctor's got himself into _this_ time.

Must admit I've had to do a fair bit of research (such a hardship !) into this bit since, to slightly modify a certain person's protest, I'm a police civilian, not a rocket scientist ! But if I've read the bit about ZPM's in the official companion book correctly, it is viable that a source of special 'super mega-power' through the Chair could give the ZPMs and, from that, the weapons systems, a much needed boost.

So with that, and my twisted little imagination, I've come up with this... as always, I hope you enjoy ! Oh, and no more cliffies... well, for a while, anyway... ;o) just the usual reference to Rising, 'cos it's somehow got stuck in my head... not to mention my DVD player... :o)

Chapter Twenty Six

There hadn't been many times in her life where Elizabeth Weir had felt completely out of her depth. A brilliant diplomat, a natural leader, she'd met all that life had so far thrown at her head on. But this... there was so much for her reeling senses to take in. So much for her stunned eyes to try and accept.

On every workbench around her, computer screens and monitors were making like the fourth of July. That was alarming enough. Inevitably, though, Elizabeth's eyes returned to her CMO. Or, rather, what now _passed_ for her CMO.

He was still there, just feet away from her, his eyes still firmly closed. His face still serenely peaceful. Except now she could see the physically impossible. She could _see_ the Chair, _through_ Carson's body. In front of helpless, spellbound eyes, Carson Beckett was slowly, and surely, vanishing into thin air.

Beside her, in reassuring normality, her chief scientist looked dangerously close to all out collapse. Not that she blamed him. If truth be told, it was taking one almighty effort for her not to do the same.

But right now, Rodney McKay's self-professed brilliance was the best, maybe only, hope she had – if only to reassure her that her CMO hadn't just Ascended himself clear out of existence.

"Rodney…?" she said at last, not surprised, in the slightest, when he completely ignored her. "_Rodney_…!"

Recovering himself with, all things considered, commendable speed, McKay finally nodded – struggling to find some coherent way to explain his friend's surreal presence within his mind.

"He's okay… yeah, I – I can still… um… still hear him, in – in here, he's… still with us, he's okay…"

Even as she smiled back at him, in unreserved relief, Elizabeth still found herself needing more – Zelenka's quiet, gently accented voice answering not only her prayers, but those of an entire city.

"Power levels to the weapons systems are still higher than normal, Dr Weir, but they are stabilising… and the Chair's interface, it is also re-establishing itself… I – I think Carson's plan is working…"

"Lifesigns also stabilising…" Kate reported, meeting her eyes with the same cautious optimism – whatever she'd planned to say next lost in an excited shout from one of her attending nurses.

"Dr Weir…! He – He's coming back…!"

He was, too, though with the glow that still surrounded him, it took precious moments to be sure – buzzing murmurs of excited relief now joined by a faint, familiar, thoroughly awe-struck voice.

"H – Holy… _crap_…"

With so much still happening around them, it took several moments for its source to register – and several further moments beyond that for another minor miracle to be seen and believed.

Blue eyes. Electric blue eyes, impossibly wide and unnaturally bright, had snapped open again – memories of the last time she'd seen such panic within them bringing Elizabeth instantly to his side.

"Carson…? Carson, it's alright… it's alright, Carson, you're okay… you're doing just fine…"

Carson blinked dazedly up at her, his eyes creasing into a frown as they squinted around them.

"I – I _am_…? So – So everything's okay…? I haven't bl – blown anything up…?" he asked at last, frowning even more as a familiar figure appeared beside him, effectively blocking his line of sight.

"Hey, doc, no… no, like Elizabeth said, you're… um… doing just fine…" John Sheppard grinned, sharing Elizabeth's open relief that a still smouldering work-bench had gone thankfully unnoticed.

Deceiving Carson Beckett was one thing. Getting the better of his stubbornness was quite another.

"So it's w'rking…? I – 'm really doin' okay…?" he persisted, pained exhaustion slurring every word.

"Yes, Carson, it's working… you're doing just fine…" Elizabeth assured him, gently taking his hand – pride at his courage warring against her guilt at the silent pain which that courage was costing him. "You're doing fine, Carson, but… this is just taking so much out of you… what can I do to help…?"

That won her a trace of an exhausted smile as Carson squeezed her hand before gently releasing it.

"You – You're al – already doing it, lass…"

Not trusting herself to speak, Elizabeth just smiled back and nodded, her eyes still locked within his, sealing their compassionate gentleness into her mind as she watched them drift inexorably closed.

It would, she knew, be many hours now before she'd see those eyes open again.


	27. Chapter 27

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: Awww, thanks so much for the last lot of reviews, and for bearing with me for being so mean !

The good news is that I'm not picking on poor Carson any more for this chapter, or leaving him teetering on the brink of another cliffie. The bad news is that I've decided to torment Rodney a bit instead ;o)

Reference made here to Hide And Seek - just because it's such a wonderful scene ! Hoping, as always, that you enjoy - please let me know if you do !

Chapter Twenty Seven

She was getting used to watching him sleep, happy just to enjoy the contented, peaceful calmness on Carson's face. It may not have had John Sheppard's boyishly rakish charm, but it was a kind face, a gentle face. Where simple, honest expressiveness was concerned, her CMO won that contest, hands down.

In sleep, it was even more so, conveying every thought, every sentiment, of where his subconscious cared to take him. At the moment, a matter of great importance had to be considered from every possible angle – a series of brow-twitching, self debatory frowns providing her with some very welcome amusement.

As the debate continued, it became harder and harder for her to contain a rising swell of laughter – especially when John Sheppard put forward his own rueful theory over its likeliest content.

"Whatever he's dreaming about, you can bet it involves me, a _very_ big needle… and a _lot_ of pain…"

"Well, if you _will_ insist on landing yourself _in_ here so often…" Elizabeth shot back just as dryly, allowing herself another quiet chuckle of laughter at the 'ha-ha' face which he pulled in response.

Of course, both now soberly realised, there was a more serious side to the peaceful scene before them. For the second time that week, Carson Beckett was experiencing the flip side of life in his Infirmary. Physically and mentally drained from that highly eventful session in the Chair, he'd lain here now for the last nineteen hours in a flat out sleep, oblivious to everything around him.

Still, at least he wasn't glowing this time. That, John dryly reflected, was a definite bonus.

Further poignant reflections drifted through his mind as he continued to study his sleeping friend.

"_He's a doctor_, _John_. A _medical_ _doctor_. He _was sent here to treat the injured_, _and heal the sick_, _and_... _damn it_, _he_'_s_ _a_ _doctor_… _not some freaky weapons machine we can just plug in when we need_ _him_…"

He'd never fuel McKay's already galaxy-sized ego by saying so, of course, but… well, he'd been right. Carson Beckett wasn't a fighter pilot. He wasn't a lab-rat either. He was, first and foremost, a doctor. And, John quietly mused, finally allowing himself a duly proud smile, he was a damn good one at that.

Each in their own way, they'd both been guilty of turning Carson Beckett into something he wasn't. It had taken some _very_ special intervention, not just once but twice, to repair and reverse the damage.

Now, at last, the awesome burden of guarding the galaxy had been lifted from Carson's shoulders, shared around a bit more fairly – leaving their brilliant, irreplaceable, one-of-a-kind CMO free to get back to what he did best.

Being a doctor. Healing the sick. Treating the injured. Dealing with a certain hyper-hypochondriac.

In his absence, that last, seemingly impossible task fell to Kate Buchanan. And boy, did she know it.

"For the last time, Rodney, you have a wee paper cut… a paper cut does _not_ need a bloody bandage…! And for God's sake, keep your voice down…! Carson's still asleep, and if you _dare_ wake him…"

"There'll be _real_ bloodshed… _all_ of it Rodney's…" John grinned to a quietly chuckling Elizabeth – both enjoying this exchange too much to notice a blearily indignant blue eye slowly crank itself open.

It was going to take something special to bring Rodney McKay to his no doubt blood-starved senses. Carson Beckett now managed it with just a handful of exasperated, exquisitely Beckett-ish words.

"R'dn'y…? For God's sake, ye big Jessie, leave ma poor bloody staff in peace…"

Slurred with sleep, the charmingly soft burr had thickened into barely coherent, broadest Glaswegian. But the affectionate insult it had conveyed, however hard to follow, was pure Carson Beckett – just as the suspiciously twitchy, baleful scowl which answered it was one hundred percent Rodney McKay.

If truth be told, Elizabeth didn't know which of these two priceless expressions amused her more. She knew one thing, though, as she and Kate shared a wry glance of kindred long sufferance. After nearly three weeks of traumatic upheaval, life on Atlantis had, at last, just got back to normal.

"Oh, that's just great…" McKay finally spluttered in what, to him, was fully justified outrage. "I mean, way to go on the expert diagnosis, Carson…! You haven't even _looked_ at it…!"

Duly obliging, for all of two seconds, Carson then closed his eyes again, curling back under the covers.

"Pa'er cut…" he mumbled, completing his diagnosis from deep within a safe huddle of bedclothes. "Bed rest… plen'y of fluids… hot sweet tea to count'ract shock… now _bugger_ **_off_**…!"

"Yeah, that's good advice, Rodney…" John chipped in, taking full advantage of McKay's gaping silence. "I mean, with all this excitement and trauma and blood loss to cope with, you might _faint_ again…"

As the inevitable snarky protests broke out around her, Elizabeth could only smile and ruefully shake her head.

Of course, that really rather depended on your definition of 'normal'.


	28. Chapter 28

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: Another slightly longer chapter this time, setting the scene, I hope, for the end of the story.

Speaking of which, and in answer to victoriaely's question, I think I said a few chapters back that there were another nine to come at that point. Blame the plot bunny, but I'm getting the feeling that could change...! So let's just say I'll follow the lead of another type of bunny, and just keep going... and going... :o)

Seriously, thanks so much for the continued support, it's been much appreciated ! And for anyone who thought our Carson was, perhaps, making _too_ good a recovery from his experience... well, let's just say there's more than one storm brewing in this chapter... ;o)

Chapter Twenty Eight

Even as the rest of Atlantis slept through a pre-dawn storm, Elizabeth knew where she'd find him. Her CMO, she dryly reflected, was nothing if not predictable, especially when he had a lot on his mind.

Sure enough, there he was, enjoying a quiet breakfast at one of the Commissary's sheltered tables.

A few other early risers who'd had the same idea were still greeted with the usual, friendly smile. But to those who knew him that little bit better, who could read his face just that little more astutely – oh yes, Elizabeth mused, still quietly watching him, Carson Beckett, MD, was _not_ a happy doctor.

It was inevitable, really, that the incredible events of the last two weeks had finally caught up with him. His seemingly untroubled recovery had, she realised, lulled them all into a false sense of security. In the shared relief of that recovery, the change in Carson's mood had escaped even the sharpest eyes.

For the last two days, though, his increasingly subdued quietness had set alarm bells ringing. The playful banter, most markedly between him and McKay, had come to a worrying halt. There was an awkwardness around them, a simmering tension, which hadn't been there before.

As its cause continued to evade them, someone else was going to have to identify it instead. More to the point, that someone was going to have to find a way to bring both back on an even keel. And they were going to have to draw on all their skills, both as a diplomat and a leader, to pull it off.

She'd tackle McKay later, once she had a sustaining breakfast inside her, but in the meantime – well, while she had her CMO on his own like this, with conveniently few people around…

"Carson, good morning… do you mind if I join you…?"

Guilt flickered through her for a moment, that she'd startled him so suddenly out of his thoughts – relief thankfully following on behind as, recovering himself, Carson dredged up a sheepish grin.

"Aye, lass… um… of course… here, let me… um… let me get that for you…"

The sight of him hastily making room for her tray on the table was a charmingly encouraging sign. So was the slight easing of his smile as she sat down, betraying his silent relief for her company. That, at least, gave her something to work on as, smiling back at him, she nodded towards his tray.

"A fine traditional Scottish breakfast, I see… just what you need on a cold wet morning like this…"

Puzzled blue eyes blinked at her for a moment, before dropping to study the bowl in front of them.

"Aye…" Carson said at last, passing his spoon in listless circles through a heap of cooling porridge.

Okay, so maybe not the most promising of responses, but Elizabeth knew better than to push him. For all his cheerily friendly nature, you backed Carson Beckett into a corner at your foolish peril. So instead Elizabeth just waited, sipping her coffee, until his eyes flicked hesitantly upwards again – the bewildered disappointment within them echoed through a voice that was still tellingly subdued.

"I – I think Rodney's still mad at me, for… for what happened with the Chair…"

Even as she welcomed this typical openness from him, Elizabeth couldn't hide her puzzled surprise. As far as she was concerned, a still nigglingly guilty conscience was affecting the wrong doctor.

"He is…?" she said at last, deciding, for now at least, that the best thing she could do was play dumb. A surprising number of tricky situations, she dryly reflected, had still been resolved that way.

Staring out at the ocean, Carson just nodded this time before, sighing, he shrugged his shoulders.

"I must admit, Elizabeth, I can see his point…" he said at last, giving his porridge another listless prod. "I – I mean, I know it worked out okay, in the end, but… it was still a bloody reckless thing to do…"

Carson then shook his head, his reticence of just moments before now swinging to the other extreme – his next words tumbling over themselves, in a pure rush of release, as he stirred six bells out of his tea.

"I – I mean, I knew _I_'_d_ be okay, I knew no harm would come to _me_, but what about Rodney…? All the time I had that power going through my head, Elizabeth, he was right there with me, and… damn it, no wonder he's so mad at me… what the hell was I thinking, putting him through that…?"

For all her underlying concern, Elizabeth now felt a smile tugging, irresistibly, at the side of her mouth. So that was it. A simple crossing of wires had led to all sorts of cascading misunderstandings. Rodney McKay had been moping around his lab, thinking Carson was mad at him for one reason – and Carson was sitting out here, equally miserable, convinced that McKay was mad at him for another.

Of course, this wasn't the first time that two brilliant minds had completely misunderstood each other. And, she now dryly reflected, just from past experience alone, she knew that it wouldn't be the last. More immediately, though… well, she had a little bit of sheepish explaining of her own to do – to a tired, confused CMO who, not surprisingly, was wondering why she was smiling and he wasn't.

"Actually, Carson, I think the person that Rodney's still most mad at is himself… and for what it's worth, he's feeling as lousy about all this as you are..." she said at last, allowing that smile to widen as her gently tempting bait was, just as she'd hoped, instantly taken.

If there was one thing guaranteed to snag her CMO's curiosity, it was a comment like that one. Nothing got those famous mother-henning instincts up and running quicker than a hint of a friend in trouble.

"He – He _is_…?" Carson frowned back at her, confused, relieved and dismayed in equal measure.

Slightly guilty that she'd taken such advantage of his nature, Elizabeth grew more duly serious – taking advantage of another kind, privacy this time, as she reached across the table to take his hand.

"Yes, Carson, he's still feeling guilty over… well, what he said to you during the Wraith attack…"

She hadn't thought it possible, but already wide blue eyes now managed to grow even rounder – dismayed disbelief now joining the other medley of emotions expressed so openly within them.

"But – But we've talked all that out, Elizabeth…! I – I thought he was okay…" he said at last – the dismay in his eyes increasing as Elizabeth smiled back at him, nodding in blameless sympathy.

"Yes, Carson, I know…" she replied gently, making sure her next words held no hint of criticism. "But I think your second session in the Chair brought it all back again… and rather more besides. Rodney knows that remark he made, about what happened back in Antarctica, really hurt you, and... well, I think with still being bugged by that, and what he now knows about your father…"

"Rodney lost his father, too, when – when he was the same age as me…" Carson cut in softly – its impact written all over his face as he realised what this new bond between them had led to. "All this must have been hell on him, Elizabeth, and – and... dear God, what the hell have I done…?"

Watching his face pale, its expression fall in complete despair, Elizabeth hastened to reassure him.

"You've done the best thing you _could_ do for him, Carson… the best thing _any_ friend could do…"

Either she'd been too cryptic, or he was just too upset to take it, but her bait went untouched this time. In fact, it took several gentle but brisk shakes on Carson's hand to coax him to meet her eyes again – her grip on it staying firm, ensuring she kept that vital contact as she tried, again, to reassure him.

"Carson, you knew Rodney at the SGC long before I arrived there. You know him better than I do. In fact, with this new mind-link between you, you know him better, now, than anyone else here. And yes, it will have brought back some painful memories of his father, just as it's done for you. But so much good has come from it too, Carson. It's given you the best way possible to help him…"

"Aye, lass… yes, it – it has… of course it has..." Carson agreed, clearly surprised he'd not thought this out for himself – still frowning but, to Elizabeth's relief, in self mockery now as he poked the remains of his porridge. "Guess the slow release energy hasn't quite reached my head yet…"

"Considering most of it's still in the bowl, Carson, that's hardly surprising…"

The face he pulled in response was priceless – but not as priceless as the sight of him eating again.

All rueful mutters about it aside, the powers of porridge still worked wonders on her CMO's mood. After just a few spoonfuls, the tired blue eyes brightened, regaining their familiar, steady calmness – prompting Elizabeth to quietly promise herself a big bowlful of the stuff the next morning.

The voice which then broke into her thoughts was still soft, but still warmed her with its gratitude.

"Thanks for putting me straight, lass… if you'll excuse me, I'd better do the same for Rodney…"

"At _this_ time of the morning…?" Elizabeth pointed out, raising a playfully quizzical eyebrow – gladly giving up the fight to keep her face straight as that of her CMO winced in comic realisation.

"This'd never happen with proper, _Scottish_ porridge…" he muttered, glaring at the offending bowl.

Laughing too much to tease him further, Elizabeth just linked her arm, in easy informality, through his - enjoying this simple pleasure of their friendship while both enjoyed the spectacular beauty of the approaching storm.

Beyond the Commissary's shelter, torrents of rain continued to lash down from a cloud-laden sky. But for its two cosily huddled occupants, this miserable morning had just become just a little bit brighter.


	29. Chapter 29

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: Another slightly longer chapter this time, so Carson can start to find out what's bugging Rodney. More to come at the end of the story, but... well, for now, let's just get the boys talking to each other again.

Slight twist on the Rising reference, as you'll see. And, as always, thanks for the reviews - I hope you enjoy !

Chapter Twenty Nine

The mischievous devil in him had been sorely tempted to give his lie-in loving friend an early morning wake up call. As he approached the Chair Room, however, Carson Beckett was quietly relieved he'd resisted that temptation. While his earlier, gloomily miserable mood had thankfully lifted, Rodney McKay's clearly hadn't. And, as usual, it was the miraculously patient Radek Zelenka who was suffering the brunt of it.

"Damn it, Radek, these schematics aren't what I asked for…! They're – They're not even close…! How the hell can you expect me to recalibrate the Chair's interface, when you can't even give me the basics…? Or do I have to do the job myself…? As usual…? Damn it, am I the only person around here who has the slightest clue on what they're doing...?"

Watching this rant, unseen, from the corridor doorway, Carson sighed while ruefully shaking his head. Maybe, as Elizabeth had dryly suggested, he _should_ have had that second bowl of porridge after all. If the depth of his friend's temper was anything to go by, he was going to need the strength.

Instead, guiltily deciding that Radek had suffered enough, he moved, in unseen silence, into the fray – the contrasting quietness of his voice bringing that one-sided fray to an instant, mutually stunned halt.

"Hello, Rodney…"

Part of him felt guilty that his friend's head had spun so rapidly around that he was risking some serious whiplash. But at least now he had Rodney McKay's full, undivided, and, most importantly, speechless attention.

Taking full advantage of that silence, not knowing how long it would last, he then turned to Zelenka – wryly noting the Czech's grateful nod of agreement long before his quiet suggestion was completed.

"Radek, I'm sure those schematics will come right for you after a wee break, lad… _right_, Rodney…?"

The voice was still soft, perfectly calm – yet it now prompted a mass exodus out of the Chair Room.

If not for being held locked by two deadly serious blue eyes, Rodney McKay would have joined them. Only his finely honed senses of survival and self preservation stopped him from doing so. That would only lead to an already _seriously_ miffed Scottish doctor having to track him down, and… well, not even the brash and brilliant Rodney McKay would dare to do anything _that_ stupid.

Instead, still nervously watching his friend, he settled for the closest protection he could find – too unsettled, and agitated, to notice the flicker of wry amusement which now graced Carson's face. Nothing, it seemed, sheltered a nervous scientist quite so well as the backrest of an Ancient's Chair.

That scientist had seemingly read his thoughts, and put his own conscience-struck slant on them. Remembering what he'd said on that harrowing, fateful day, McKay looked more awkward than ever. On the plus side, though, memories of brashly insensitive words now brought further apology for them

"I'm – I'm sorry, Carson… for – for what I said before, it – it was a dumb, stupid thing to say, and…"

"Aye, lad, I know you are…" Carson cut in softly, studying his friend with more dutifully serious eyes. As another awkward silence fell between them, he then sighed, trying to think how best to break it. Part of the quiet heart to heart he'd had with Elizabeth earlier gave him just the inspiration he needed.

"I thought we'd settled all this, Rodney. What you said back then, it's all gone and forgotten now…"

Gone, maybe – but clearly not forgotten, if McKay's flustered response was anything to go by.

"I know that, Carson…! I – I know that, and I thought that too, but… but it's just…"

"All come back to you since that last session I had in the Chair… hasn't it…?" Carson cut in gently – notching up another 'I owe you one' credit to Elizabeth as pained eyes slid tellingly away from his.

She'd been right on something else, too, he dryly reflected, as he came to stand at Rodney's side. Despite their differing natures, there'd always been this special bond of understanding between them. In fact, there'd been times where he'd understood his friend better than Rodney McKay knew himself.

Through that rare, privileged closeness, he knew Rodney McKay better than anyone else on the base. Then again, the rest of the expedition team hadn't posed him much threat in the way of competition. For reasons that needed no explanation, Rodney McKay wasn't exactly high in the popularity stakes.

His circle of friends could be counted on two hands. Close friends could be counted on just one. As for friends he trusted enough to freely confide in… well, for that you just needed to use the tip of a finger.

He needed that friend now, to help heal a wound which, Carson now realised, had scarred both of them. And while that wound had now closed for _him_, it still ran deeply, painfully raw, for Rodney McKay.

He'd open up eventually, of course, once he was calm enough, and settled enough, to do so. Carson knew that. In the meantime, he had a few conscience-easing apologies of his own to make.

"I'm sorry too, Rodney, for being so selfish… for being so bloody insensitive…" he said at last – cementing that apology with a gentle, equally heartfelt squeeze on his friend's shoulder.

He'd meant it as a means of reassurance. Instead it caused his friend to jump out of his skin.

"Jeez, Carson…!" he yelped, frantically checking his wrist to make sure his pulse was still there. "Is business for you so slow today that you're having to provide your own patients…?"

Staring back at him, in genuine dismay, Carson then felt one side of his mouth helplessly twitch. Trust Rodney to turn this moment of heartfelt sentiment into a McKay Medical Melodrama.

Hoping he had that smile sufficiently under control to look convincingly contrite, he then shrugged.

"Sorry, Rodney…"

"Oh yes, of _course_ you are… that sick little grin on your face tells me that…" Rodney shot back – another, more genuine apology turning a baleful scowl into a frown of promisingly familiar curiosity. "Apart from scaring ten years out of my life expectancy, you're sorry for what, exactly…?"

Carson was frowning too now, in real seriousness, as he nodded towards the Chair beside them.

"For this… for the old wounds it's opened up for you, regarding your dad…"

Now it was Rodney's turn to stare, in astonishment, that his private torment had been read so easily.

"How – How did…?" he stammered, pre-empting Carson's reply before he'd even opened his mouth. "Okay, dumb question, what with you, me and the whole mind-meld thing, but… I – I mean…"

The reply, this time, went uninterrupted. Given its subdued quietness, it was really just as well.

"I know how much it hurts, Rodney. I know how bloody hard it is, to accept and come to terms with it. But most of all, I know the hell it causes if you keep that anger and pain to yourself for too long…"

Rodney just nodded this time, remaining tellingly silent while he considered his friend's words.

Yet even as this silence between them continued to stretch, Carson resisted the natural urge to break it. If there was one thing he'd learned, and perfected, in his time as a doctor, it was the art of tactful quiet.

The silence between them now told him that Rodney McKay wasn't ready, quite yet, to confide in him. But at least they were talking to each other calmly again – a distinct improvement on the previous day.

Rodney had sensed this breakthrough too, since a trace of a smile re-appeared as he met Carson's eyes. And the return of that sarcastic humour…? The familiar insults…? Oh yes, a definite improvement.

"So you've progressed from voodoo to psychiatry now…?"

"With you lot to look after, I've not had much bloody choice…"

Staying wisely silent on that point, Rodney just shrugged while pensively stroking the Chair's armrest.

"Hell of a thing, isn't it…?" he said at last, tracing its intricate power with all the reverence it deserved.

"Aye, lad, it is that…" Carson agreed, frowning slightly as he noticed the tiredness on his friend's face. "I'm just sorry it's causing you such a headache to get it up and running again… not to mention…"

"What, are you kidding…?" McKay broke in, with all the enthusiasm Carson had secretly hoped for. "Aside from the boost it's given the weapons systems, it's also powered up the main shields, and… well, if Zelenka can just get the schematics right, I reckon we can power up the ZPM too, and…"

The excited tumble of words then skidded to a halt as McKay shot an awkward look sideways.

"Remind me to… um… well, you know, to… um…"

"Say sorry to Radek later…?" Carson supplied, with the gentle patience of frequently used practice.

Watching the subdued tiredness of Rodney's acceding nod, he then grew instantly serious again – another gentle squeeze on his friend's shoulder met with a wearily grateful smile as he rubbed his eyes.

"I know there's no chance in hell of taking one, but… God, I could use a vacation right now…"

Blocked by his fingers, he didn't see the 'light-bulb' smile which now lit up Carson Beckett's face. All he heard was an equally rueful, innocent sigh that hid a germinating seed of conspiratory genius.

"Aye, lad… aye, couldn't we all…?"


	30. Chapter 30

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: Thanks for the review, nebbyjen ! And just to answer your question from it - yes, we're going on vacation, so get your bags packed ! ;o)

You won't find out where, though, for another couple of chapters. Before then - well, there's a wee bit of help in arranging it to come from Elizabeth, and a certain 'delayed event' for Carson to get out of the way, so I'd better crack on with the first of those.

As always, I hope you enjoy ! Now then, Dr Beckett, what evil plan is going through that brilliant mind of yours...? ;o)

Chapter Thirty

After their earlier meeting, Elizabeth wasn't at all surprised to see her CMO in her office doorway. They'd already agreed, before he'd left for his 'wee chat' with Rodney, that he'd keep her 'suitably updated.'

What _did_ surprise her, and silently worry her at the same time, was the multi-dimpled grin on his face. She'd seen that wonderful grin enough times to know that something outlandish, something quirkily Beckett-ish, wasn't far behind it. And whatever Carson Beckett was planning clearly needed her help, if not her approval.

Dryly thinking he'd been spending _way_ too much time with a certain colonel, she smiled back at him – scenarios of all sorts of impending chaos flashing through her mind as she gestured for him to enter.

"Well, Carson, you're certainly looking happier…" she said at last, keeping her tone carefully casual. "So, how did it go with Rodney…? Did you two manage to straighten things out…?"

"Aye, lass… well, we've started to, anyway… and at least I've put him straight on a few things…"

If maybe not the complete outcome he'd hoped for, there'd still been more than a hint of satisfied triumph in his voice – this rare moment of self congratulation causing her smile to widen as she watched him sit down.

So her sweet natured Carson had put Rodney McKay 'straight on some things', had he…? No wonder he had that grin on his face. No wonder he looked so thoroughly pleased with himself. And, in hindsight, what wouldn't she have given to have seen, and heard, how he'd managed it…? Maybe if she caught him at breakfast again tomorrow, he'd be able to give her some pointers.

More immediately, though, Elizabeth had another intriguing mystery to try and resolve – and quickly, too, before her CMO exploded from whatever he was clearly just itching to ask her.

"That's good…" she said at last, finding it a real struggle now to keep her voice headmistressly stern. "Now _that_'_s_ been settled, here's another question for you… what are you up to, Dr Beckett…?"

Never had the word 'busted' been more charmingly demonstrated as Carson's mouth dropped open – the complete shock on his face effectively causing her façade of sternness to dissolve into helpless laughter.

Pulling a face back at her, Carson then sighed, the grin making a welcome, if rueful, re-appearance.

"Och, lass, am I that bloody transparent…?" he groaned, relieved and disappointed in equal measure.

"Yes, Carson, you are… especially when you go all Ascendy on us…" Elizabeth teased him, loving the chagrined redness which now swept, so charmingly, through those multi-dimpled cheeks.

"Aye, see if I ever pull _that_ fool stunt again…" he muttered, though he was still grinning as he said it.

"Yes, it was certainly… _different_…" Elizabeth agreed, sobered a little by another kind of transparency.

For all the playful teasing, her CMO clearly had other, more serious concerns on his mind now – brought back, no doubt, by this reminder of what had caused him so much needless anxiety. She could see it in his eyes. See it in the absent toying of his fingers through the laces on his boots. And it didn't surprise her in the slightest that his distracted thoughts revolved around a certain scientist.

"You were right, Elizabeth… all this, it's… well, it's been hell on Rodney too…" Carson said at last, the cheery ebullience of just moments before faltering a little under the weight of returning concern. "I - I hadn't realised it, until seeing him just now… well, just how rough this has all been on him, and… well, you know what he's like, Elizabeth… Rodney doesn't exactly wear his heart on his sleeve…"

Distracted by her own thoughts, Elizabeth just nodded as she quietly studied him across her desk. It still astonished her that two people of such contrasting natures had become such close friends. Perhaps it was that very disparity which had forged such a unique, extraordinary bond between them – McKay's brash, insensitive arrogance kept gently in check by Carson's quiet, unjudgmental calm.

Gradually aware of his puzzled, patiently expectant frown, she then smiled and nodded once more – watching in renewed curiosity as those charming dimples made a tentative re-appearance.

"I – I think I know how to help him open up, lass, but… well, I'm going to need _your_ help to make it happen…"

Dryly wondering if she'd ever be able to resist that smile, Elizabeth nodded for him to continue. Minutes later, to her open amusement, that wickedly conspiratory grin had returned, full force.

'Operation Rodney' was, officially, a go.


	31. Chapter 31

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: I'm using a wee bit of writer's licence here, and giving Carson the same birthday as Paul McGillion. Mind you, since the poor lad was unconscious for the day itself, I'm also borrowing another famous Scot's birthday for some belated celebrations. Oh, and for those with nervous stomachs - haggis alert ! ;o)

Just a quick reference to Hope Re-Born, to explain Carson's baby god-daughter, but nothing other than that. Oh, and just another bit of writer's licence for Carson's final birthday pressie. As always, I hope you enjoy !

Chapter Thirty One

The celebrations for their CMO's birthday had, for various reasons, been rather late in coming. Nineteen days late, in fact. All things considered, though, no-one was complaining. Those celebrations had been well worth the wait.

There was a poetic timeliness about them, too, which the great man himself would have approved. For Carson Beckett to be celebrating his birthday, one they'd all once feared he'd never see, on Burns Night… oh yes, Elizabeth now contentedly reflected, you had to give John Sheppard his rightful due. Her chief pilot, ranking military officer and, now, _honorary_ Scot, could also throw one _hell_ of a party.

Whether suffering heads would feel quite so happy tomorrow remained to be seen, of course, but – well, even if they didn't, Elizabeth doubted that their owners would be bearing _too_ many grudges. After all, as John had so assuredly told her, hangovers were 'what B12 shots had been invented for.'

Needless to say, she'd immediately asked him where such surefire knowledge had come from – the devilish glint in his eye convincing her, to further amusement, that she was better off not knowing.

Instead, filing that little gem of intel away for further use, she stood with him on her office balcony – sharing the relieved pleasure of watching their CMO celebrate his birthday in the best way possible.

Surrounded by friends, his surrogate family, Carson Beckett was the study of settled contentment – his famously infectious laughter rivalled only by his god-daughter's giggling squeals as he gently swung Dochas above his head.

McKay was entering into the spirit of the occasion too, explaining its origins to Teyla and Ronon – their polite, slightly glazed expressions suggesting he'd hit another kind of spirit a _little_ too freely. If not for Teyla's innocent curiosity over another of its traditions, they'd have been there all night.

"And this delicacy, Rodney, this… haggis… you say that _everything_ is included in its preparation…? The heart, lungs _and_ liver…? They are _all_ cooked together, in the stomach of the sheep itself…?"

"Sounds good… makes full use of the animal…" Ronon nodded approvingly, clearly impressed.

In stark contrast, McKay's enthusiasm and facial colour both now took a visible down-turn. If he'd not hated sheep before, their place in Scottish culture… well, he certainly hated them now.

"Oh, _God_…" he moaned, making a shaky bolt through readily parting crowds for the nearest balcony.

Once the celebrations had drawn to a close, just a core of tiredly contented, reflective friends remained. In companionable silence, John, Rodney and Carson stood side by side against the balcony railing – this private moment between them observed, in quiet pride, as Elizabeth replenished their glasses.

It wasn't the first time, of course, that she'd watched them share this quiet, brotherly bonding. And, she proudly reflected as she, Teyla and Ronon returned to re-join them, it wouldn't be the last – just as she knew it would be John Sheppard who'd softly, and gently, break the silence between them.

"Hey, Carson… you okay…?"

Startled for a moment, Carson then smiled and nodded before turning his eyes skywards once more.

"Aye, lad…" he replied softly, unable to resist tossing a wicked grin in a certain scientist's direction. "I'd have used the 'w' word, but... well, I think Rodney's had enough sheepy talk for one night…"

"Oh yes, thank you, for your _overwhelming_ concern…" a still rather pasty-faced McKay shot back – pointedly ignoring the vainly stifled chuckles of laughter around him as he glared daggers at his friend. "I see those finely honed voodoo manners of yours are still as sharp as ever…"

"Almost as sharp as your wit, Rodney…"

All joking aside, though, Carson couldn't resist resting a solicitous hand against McKay's forehead – the now familiar soft glow which surrounded it drawing a succession of suitably awed responses.

"Oh, in your dreams, you voodoo prince of… hey…! Hey, my – my headache…! It's – It's gone…!"

"Holy crap…"

"Hey, doc, cool move…! _Way_ cooler than B12 shots in the butt…"

The final word, though, heard by one person and one person alone, drew the happiest response of all – Carson's inexplicable fit of giggles met, at first, with puzzled stares then relieved, humouring glances. Fortunately, it didn't take too much alcohol-addled thought to work out where the day's final, _very_ special birthday present had come from.

_Ye need all the healing help ye can get with this one_, _son_… _and it's a wee bit late for ye, I know, but_… _well, better late than_ _ne'er_… _and by God, ye deserve it_… _happy birthday, Carsie_… _happy birthday_…


	32. Chapter 32

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: Well, I hope you brought your bags and passports, because - yes, it's holiday time ! No prizes for guessing where we're going, although I hope there'll still be a few surprises for you along the way.

Thanks as always for the latest reviews - and for anyone who's ever wondered what it would be like to take Rodney on holiday with you, then read on... ;o)

Chapter Thirty Two

Sunrise. A stunner, too, bringing spectacular tints of reds, pinks and greys to a cloud-topped horizon.

From his seat at the train's window, Carson Beckett sat watching its beauty in a trance of pure pleasure. This had always been his favourite part of the day, just for the simple uncertainty of what it would bring. All those new challenges for him, waiting to be faced. All those new discoveries, waiting to be found.

Wrapping his fingers around a styrofoam cup of steaming tea, Carson felt his smile contentedly widen. After what he'd just been through, this everyday miracle held more meaning for him, now, than ever. It had been a long time, a _hell_ of a long time, since he'd felt so settled, so at peace with himself, as this

And okay, so John Sheppard was still working on a better name for it than 'Doc's glowy handy thing'. But whatever name they'd eventually find for it, Carson knew one thing, for certain, beyond all doubt. He would treat this new gift, its incredible privilege, with all the gratitude and reverence it deserved.

He'd use these gifted hands as they'd always been destined to be, to cure the sick… heal the injured…

"Ow…! Damn it, Carson, has the concept of padded seating not reached your charming country yet…? As if I've not suffered enough already, now my whole spine's been re-arranged by these damn seats. I'm sure a disk's gone, I felt it go, and… yeah, I – I can feel it, Carson, it's – it's the same one, and… well, this is just great, isn't it…? I _finally_ get a vacation, and I'll be spending it flat on my back…!"

…oh yes, he'd also use them to strangle scientists who'd raised hypochondria into a bloody art form. Then he'd strangle the damn eejit who'd suggested that he and Rodney McKay go on holiday together.

Idly wondering if self-strangulation was medically possible, Carson released another patient sigh. 'Operation Rodney', as his ruefully ignored inner voice had _tried_ to warn him, was _not_ going smoothly.

The warning signs had started at Heathrow, with the fated 'displacement' of a certain person's luggage. An unlisted use of lemon on their hotel menu had set further alarm bells ringing, in every sense – a well meaning crowd of curious onlookers denying Carson the chance of some 'glowy handy healing'

Instead they'd spent that first, far from relaxing night of their holiday in a chaotically busy A&E. Throw in a sleeplessly lousy night, for both of them, and the taxicab driver from hell on the way to Euston, and – well, Carson could have been easily forgiven for wishing they'd both stayed on Atlantis.

Luckily his cheery optimism had been rewarded, in spectacular beauty, as they'd crossed the border – his excitement at returning home lost, inevitably, on the person he'd most wanted to share it with. Ten minutes out of Euston, still grumbling over the _joys_ of railway coffee, McKay had closed his eyes. To Carson's chagrin, and their fellow travellers' politely silent tolerance, he'd been snoring soundly ever since.

Now he'd woken more cranky than ever, to ruin this relative quiet as only Rodney McKay could – prompting equally well practised, softly calming patience to diffuse the potential fallout.

"Ye cannae slip a disk as easy as that, Rodney… you're just stiff from sitting so awkwardly…"

Needless to say, the mouth was already open, all ready to deliver further pearls of sarcastic wisdom. Except, to Carson's quietly relieved satisfaction, those familiar witticisms failed to materialise. Instead, Rodney's mouth dropped further to gape, in sheer wonder, at the stunning beauty around him.

"Oh… my… God…" he finally whispered, his dinner-plated eyes darting in spellbound speed to take it all in. "Oh, my God, Carson... that's… that's impressive, isn't it…?"

Now it was Carson's turn to blink and stare in astonishment, before a grin of patriotic delight took over his face. An 'impressive' from Rodney McKay…? Well, would wonders and miracles never cease…?

Wonders and miracles of a different, equally welcome kind now caused his smile to happily widen. They'd not even reached Glasgow yet, but the beauty of his homeland was already working its magic. Not even the rattle of an approaching snack trolley could break its hold over his spellbound friend.

The healing, Carson gratefully noted, had started. 'Operation Rodney', it seemed, was back on track.

"Aye, lad…" he said at last, not surprised in the slightest, or insulted, by Rodney's lack of response. Instead he settled back in his seat, sipping his tea while enjoying a wee bit of that homeland magic for himself. "Aye, lad, it is… and trust me, son, you've no' seen the best of it yet…!"


	33. Chapter 33

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: Okay, well, we've arrived at our first stop on 'Operation Rodney'. And since no trip to Scotland would be complete for Carson without a visit home, that first stop just _has_ to be to see his mum.

As always, I hope you enjoy...!

Chapter Thirty Three

Until ten seconds ago, Rodney McKay had been sure there was no bigger mother hen on the planet – no, he dazedly corrected himself, no bigger mother hen in two _galaxies_, than Dr Carson Beckett.

Still wrapped in a rib-crushing hug, that long held theory was coming in for a somewhat groggy re-think. For the ultimate experience in good old fashioned mother-henning, you needed… well, a mother. And Gracie Beckett couldn't just write a book on that subject, she could write an entire library.

For all her slightness, she could pack a mean hug too, one that was rapidly threatening to crush his ribs. If not for some timely, highly amused intervention, he'd have been in real danger of being suffocated.

"Och, easy up, mum…! I havenae brought Rodney all this way for ye to break his ribs…!"

"Dinna be so cheeky, ye wee scamp…" his mother scolded him through still helpless laughter – another equally loving, motherly threat silencing that scamp's mischievous chuckles with instant, cringe-causing speed. "Och, Rodney, the tales I could tell ye, about the scrapes this wee boy o' mine got into…"

"_Really_…?"

Not surprisingly, Rodney was now all eager-eared attention, his eyes gleaming in gleeful mischief – right until Carson leant close to softly mutter a failsafe way to stop that mischief in its tracks.

"Needles, Rodney… _needles_…"

Perhaps thankfully, all this had been lost on Gracie as she continued to fuss motheringly around them.

"Here, Rodney, let me take your coat… Carson, why don't ye take Rodney ben the back room…? I'll get ye both some tea and a wee bite tae eat, you both must be fit tae eat a Sheltie…"

Silently wishing he'd boned up on colloquial Scottish before they'd left Denver, Rodney frowned.

"Ben…? Who's… um… who's Ben…?" he asked at last, glancing worriedly at the floor around them. Relations with his best friend's mother would hardly be helped if he were to inadvertently kick her cat.

_If that best friend doesn_'_t stop_ _laughing right now_, _I_'_ll_ _be kicking him instead_…

Still laughing as he steered his friend along the hallway, Carson then nodded towards one of its adjoining rooms.

"I'm going to have to teach you some _proper_ Scottish, Rodney…" he chuckled, opening its door. "Ben isn't a person, or thing, it's a Scottish word for into, or through to… like _into_ our room here…"

Not wanting to give his still grinning friend any more teasing ammunition than he had already, Rodney just nodded. Instead he settled into every first time guest's familiar ritual, curiously taking in his surroundings – or rather, he guiltily corrected himself, the home that had been so selflessly offered to him to share in.

He'd sensed its warmth, the love and happiness within it, long before he'd been welcomed inside – the twinge of envy he'd felt passing tactfully unnoticed as Carson nudged him towards the couch.

"Sit yourself down, Rodney, or you'll be getting me in all sorts o' trouble wi' mum…"

If not for his throbbingly aching feet, Rodney would have been sorely tempted to remain standing – if only to see what further, entertaining mother to son exchanges such 'trouble' involved. Instead, sinking onto a couch that threatened to swallow him, he settled gratefully into its depths – allowing the hypnotic flicker of a blissfully crackling fire to further warm him, both inside and out.

It was another traditional family keepsake, though, which now drew, and held, his attention.

A single photograph, set in a typically modest frame, took pride of place on the wall above its grate. Set against a backdrop of stunning beauty, a proud father swung his giggling child high over his head.

He'd changed so much, of course, from the squealing little boy captured so charmingly here, but – well, the mop of dark hair, the wide and dimpled smile, were undoubtedly those of a much smaller Carson Beckett.

The grown up version was smiling too, in wistful pride, as he pre-empted the inevitable question.

"Aye, that's me and my da'… mum took it on my fifth birthday, when we were up in Glencoe…"

Not at all surprised by the distracted nod he received in response, Carson allowed his smile to widen. He'd not said anything, but the expression on Rodney's face alone had told him all he needed to know. If he'd not had a good reason to plan a trip to Glencoe before… well, he certainly had good reason to plan one now.


	34. Chapter 34

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: Well, I promised you some more chuckles while the boys are on holiday, and hopefully you'll find them here ! Advanced warning, though - things will get a lot more serious in the next chapter, so you might want to stock up on the chocolate and hankies !

Thanks as always for the latest reviews, and... well, now, who's up for some hiking...?

Chapter Thirty Four

He'd last come here in the remotest depths of his mind, guided by the miracle of its own power. To be here now, in Glencoe, in reality, with real sunshine warming his face, Carson Beckett stood in genuine awe.

Subconsciously, it had stunned and inspired him with its beauty. In conscious awareness, those sentiments hadn't changed. If anything, they were even stronger.

Beside him, another miracle was taking place. Rodney McKay stood totally, utterly, lost for words. It had been five clear minutes since they'd arrived, and he _still_ hadn't managed to find his voice.

"So – So this is where it happened…?" he said at last, still drinking in the stunning beauty around him. "That whole… um… Ascended journey thing you had with your dad…?"

Slowly re-surfacing from those same memories, Carson then cast his friend a gently wistful smile.

"Aye, lad… aye, it all happened here, as they say… even if it _was_ all in my head…" he sighed, helpless laughter overtaking him at the combined admiration and exasperation of that friend's response.

"And you _hiked_ up there…? _All_ the way up…? I mean, it's got to be over two thousand feet, and... jeez, Carson, no wonder you were spark out unconscious for almost five days…!"

Increasingly worried by his friend's continuing laughter, Rodney then threw a pleading look sideways.

"We're… uh… not going to do the same, are we…?" he asked, a study of nervous, twitchy reluctance. "I - I mean, hiking's fine for you haggis-chasing Hibernians, but with my back, and bad ankles, and…"

Laughing too much to retaliate, Carson just shook his head while hoisting his rucksack onto his back.

"Och, Rodney, I'd never be that mean to ye…!"

Finding it impossible to resist temptation after all, he then shrugged in perfect, deadpan innocence.

"No, since you keep mentioning them, I thought I'd introduce you to some of our famous, friendly sheep… maybe try and squeeze in the odd hairy muccle coo, while we're at it… and, of course, we're just going to _have_ to…"

"Hairy whatty _what_…?"

All effort that he'd put into controlling it now vanished, as Carson dissolved into fresh fits of laughter.

"I'm – I'm sorry, Rodney…" he said at last, continuing chuckles suggesting he was anything but. "It's what we haggis-chasing Hibernians, as you so _kindly_ deign to call us, call a Highland cow. You know, those lovely shaggy beasties we saw back at the visitor centre…? They're really quite sweet…"

"Sweet…? _Sweet_…?" Rodney echoed, his next words casting further doubts over his friend's sanity. "Hulking great rugs with a leg at each corner, pointy horns you could cook kebabs on, and _you_ call them _sweet_…?"

Never one to back down in an argument, especially where Rodney was concerned, Carson just grinned.

"Well, _I_'_ve_ always thought so…" he said at last, further memories causing his smile to ruefully widen. "When we came here for our holiday that time, dad and I found a wee calf, lying hurt by the road. I tried to talk mum into letting me take it home to take care of it, but… well, she said no…"

He looked, and sounded, so disappointed that Rodney couldn't help but stare and gape back at him – any sympathy he may have felt lasting all of two seconds, before more familiar sarcasm took its place.

"She _did_…? _Really_…? Well, for the life of me, Carson, I can't understand why…!"

"Aye, lad, I know…" Carson sighed, deadpan through years of practice as he shrugged once more – choosing his moment, with the same mischievous skill, before tossing the follow up over his shoulder. "In fact, I still don't… remind me to ask mum about that, aye…? When we get back…?"

By the time Rodney caught on, and caught up to him, he'd just about brought himself under control – his friend's 'ha-ha' expression reducing him and, eventually, Rodney too, to further howls of laughter.

There were more serious reasons, of course, for this continuing bantering and bickering between them. Its familiarity was gently paving the way for the _real_ reason they'd travelled so far to come here.

The greater part of that journey, spanning an incalculable distance, was already safely behind them. Atlantis was a whole world, an entire galaxy, away from them.

A day's hiking through Glencoe, however spectacularly beautiful, still seemed tiny in comparison. Yet that journey's importance wasn't lost, on either of them, as Rodney and Carson set out upon it.

Deep rooted anger and loss had to be confronted by one, admissions and apologies made by the other. And their consequences faced by both.


	35. Chapter 35

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: I hope I've given you fair warning, but you may need some tissues for this chapter ! I have to admit I did at times. Counting this one, there are three more to come, with some lighter moments too, so I hope you'll stay with me to enjoy them.

Just a quick reference here to one of my favourite scenes from Letters From Pegasus. Thanks as always for the latest reviews, and... well, let's catch up with the boys...

Chapter Thirty Five

They'd made good progress, in several senses of the word, during that morning's steady hike into the glens. Surrounded by such breathtaking scenery, bad backs and weak ankles had been thankfully forgotten. And the expression on Rodney's face as his pedometer confirmed they'd hiked six effortless miles…? Well, those sneakily snapped photos would keep Carson in blackmail credit for months to come.

Not surprisingly, Rodney had done most of the talking, and he'd done most of the listening. So far, they'd covered the joys of Scottish weather, the abundance of sheep, clans, a wee bit of Scottish history, Rodney's own Scottish ancestry and the existence of Nessie.

That last debate alone had taken up the best part of an hour – and set Carson a silent, private challenge. Before they returned to Glasgow tomorrow, Rodney McKay _would_ believe in the Loch Ness Monster.

With much rueful head-shaking, they'd also resolved that 'wee misunderstanding' back on Atlantis. And for Carson, there'd been an eerie sense of déjà vu as they'd taken turns to listen, explain, apologise – and heal. On that point, at least, they'd agreed on something. Each had been as densely idiotic as the other.

More seriously, though, and tellingly too, Rodney had yet to open up on what was troubling him most. Now, as they settled into an idyllic lunch beside Loch Leven, Carson sensed that was about to change.

As he'd quietly, and shrewdly noted, Rodney wasn't just _eating_ his lunch, he was _devouring _it. Of course, six hours of gentle hiking had naturally stoked both of their already hearty appetites, but – well, to the trained eyes of a mother-henning friend, this nervous hungriness meant something else too. It meant Rodney McKay was gearing himself up to face something he'd fought for years to conceal.

The many ups and downs of their friendship had quickly taught Carson the reward of patient silence. Hesitant glances towards him were met with a gentle smile here, a raised eyebrow there, the occasional head-tilt - and nothing more demanding than that.

When that first, nervously tentative comment finally arrived, it… well, it was certainly different.

"You – You know something, Carson…? I – I envy you, I – I really do…"

As Carson stared back at him, puzzled surprise was already giving way to inklings of understanding. But, as Elizabeth had so subtly taught him, playing dumb had a surprising way of paying dividends. And, as Rodney had so kindly pointed out to him, there'd been times when he'd been really, _really_ dumb.

"You _envy_ me…?" he said at last, injecting just the right amount of puzzled flattery into his voice – watching in genuine curiosity as Rodney sighed and nodded while staring out across the loch.

When he spoke again, Carson couldn't remember a time that he'd sounded so stricken with pain.

"We were the same age when our fathers died, Carson… both of us, we – we were just kids… but… well, at least you – you can remember yours with love, and… I – I just wish I could say the same…"

Pausing to re-compose himself, Rodney then cast his quizzically anxious friend a sadly envious smile.

"You – You really loved him, didn't you, Carson…? I – I mean, I… well, I – I felt that, when we… well… when I – I sat in the Chair, that – that first time, and I – I felt what was happening to you… you and your dad, you – you had something special, didn't you…? You… really loved each other… you knew _how_ to love each other..."

Not sure how to reply to such an odd comment, not sure if he even dared to try, Carson just nodded – his eyes widening in surprise, then appalled dismay, as Rodney softly, and shakily, went on to explain.

"With mine, I – I only ever knew one thing… that – that nothing I ever did was good enough for him. I – I was five years old, Carson... the age where 'normal' kids are just coming out of kindergarten… but not me… no, with an IQ already in triple figures, _I_ was destined for _much_ greater things…"

He was used to such sarcasm, of course, but Carson had never heard it spoken with such bitterness – memories of his own yearning to be 'normal' causing him to wince, too, for what he knew was coming. When those next stricken words finally came, it was all he could do to keep his own emotions in check

"I'd have given anything, Carson… anything, just – just to be normal, like those other kids, but no… no, instead I was trying to earn something that you and - and those kids had been told by their dads, without even trying... I did everything I could to please him, to – to make him proud of me, but – but it was never enough… I – I tried so hard, Carson… just tried, so hard, to – to make him proud of me, but… I – I just…"

A voice that had been shakily faltering throughout his words now gave out on Rodney completely – whatever he'd been struggling to say next becoming lost in a muffled, warningly tremulous sob.

The sheer scale of his friend's anguish had already shaken Carson to the depths of his soul. But what worried him more were the telltale catches in Rodney's increasingly erratic breathing – more professional instincts now kicking in, trying to bring it back to a healthier, steadier level.

"Easy, Rodney…" he said at last, circling his hand in slow, soothing circuits around Rodney's back. "It's alright, lad, just settle your breathing down for me… that's it, slow and steady for me now…"

Even when it had finally returned to normal, Carson kept his hand resting on Rodney's shoulder – keeping him calm, offering him all the support he could, for the further pain he knew was coming.

What he'd heard so far had left him stunned. What now shakily followed left him totally floored.

"I'm – I'm sorry, Carson…" Rodney whispered, wiping his hand, almost angrily, across his eyes. "Damn it, what – what the hell must you be thinking, seeing me like this…?"

"Seeing you like this…?" Carson stared at him, totally thrown, before his eyes widened in realisation. "You mean for getting upset just now…? For letting me see how much all this is affecting you…?"

Every ounce of common sense and sensitivity he had was silently screaming at him to keep his head. Yet for some perverse reason, the sight of a stricken nod caused that common sense to desert him.

"Bloody hell, Rodney…! I'd be more worried about you if you _didn_'_t_ break down on me…!"

Realising he'd spoken more sharply than intended, Carson started to fumble an awkward apology – staring once more, in further, silently furious dismay, at the raw helplessness of Rodney's response.

"That's - That's just it, Carson, I – I _can_'_t_…" he finally whispered, shaking his head in near frantic denial. "My – My father didn't believe in it, he – he saw shows of emotions as signs of weakness, and… and you – you don't know how lucky you are, Carson, to – to be able to cry as easily as you do…"

For all his compassion, all his training as a doctor, Carson Beckett now sat completely lost for words – left stunned that a sensitivity he'd always hated as a sign of weakness should be so poignantly envied.

For as many years as Carson could remember, he'd hated, utterly loathed, the ease with which he cried. Just the thought of that time he'd sat in his Infirmary, fidgeting and fretting in front of Ford's camera – God, even now, the thought of how pathetic he must have looked made him silently cringe.

Damn it, he could already feel that telltale prickle of dampness start to well up in his eyes.

"Rodney…you… you… I – I mean… oh, _crap_…"

Oh, this was great. His closest friend was sitting there, in desperate need of his strength and support – and all he'd been able to say, at one of the most pivotal points in their friendship, was 'oh, crap…?' Surely he could find something more constructive to say, something more bloody useful, than that…?

In the end, the simple honesty that ruled his heart and his soul brought his voice softly back to him.

"Rodney, your father, he – he isn't here now…" he said at last, gently shaking Rodney's shoulder – doing so until he'd forced Rodney to meet his eyes again, so he could draw on the strength inside them. "But _I_'_m_ here, Rodney… _I_'_m_ here…"

He was, too. His best friend, the closest thing he had to a brother, was sitting right there beside him – the tears of pure, open compassion in his eyes finally breaching the remains of Rodney's defences.

Another muffled, strangled sob escaped him, followed by another. Then, more freely, another. Another. Then the dam broke, shattered completely – and Rodney McKay found himself swept up in its release.

Somewhere inside that torrent, he could feel solid, comforting arms slip themselves around him – gently anchoring him as, for the first time in many, _many_ years, Rodney McKay fell completely apart.

Comforting his friend, as best he could, Carson could feel his own emotions tumble into free-fall. Yet even as he felt those tears course freely down his face, he could feel relief consoling him too – knowing from his own experience how precious, how vital, this release of emotion would be.

"That's it, Rodney… aye, son, that's it… just let it all come out of you…" he finally whispered – recognition of another, equally vital breakthrough causing a shaky smile to find a little more strength.

His stricken friend was still in no state to realise it, of course, and wouldn't be for some time yet, but… yes, Rodney would be okay now. In fact, they both would. They'd _both_ be okay.


	36. Chapter 36

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's note: I can't believe it, but this is the penultimate chapter ! It only seems like yesterday that I was sending our favourite wee doctor on his journey, but... well, anyway, it's been an absolute joy writing this story, and thanks so much to everyone who have shared it with me.

Just a quick reference to Hide And Seek for this chapter, with a bit more angst for Rodney - and quite a shock for him at the end !

Thanks again, for all the reviews, and... well, back to the boys... I wish... ;o)

Chapter Thirty Six

He'd seen many lives ruined by the excesses of alcohol, but Carson Beckett also firmly believed in 'needs must'. Besides, a generous shot of Glenfiddich had done the trick for him. Well, subconsciously, anyway.

"Here, lad, get this down you…" he said gently, nudging a brimming glass into Rodney's hands – meeting his friend's astonished stare with a nonchalant grin as he poured another glass for himself. "For medicinal purposes, Rodney… and on your doctor's orders… now get it down you…"

He'd seen that raised eyebrow enough times in the past to know arguing against it was a waste of breath. Instead that breath was temporarily lost to him anyway, as Rodney obediently downed his glass in one go – his spluttering attempts to retrieve it both helped and hindered by several hearty slaps against his back.

By the time he finally succeeded, Carson had just about managed to bring his grin under control – the inevitable mutters of complaint about voodoo doctors and headless chickens forestalled, as always, by the irresistible diversion of food.

Making the most of that distraction while it lasted, Carson watched his friend eat in subtle interest – noting, with genuine satisfaction, that both his colour and appetite were starting to return to normal.

Beyond his relief, though – well, Carson Beckett still had some serious apologising to do.

"I'm sorry, Rodney… about your dad…" he said at last, casting his friend a genuinely contrite smile – one that fondly widened as a brilliant mind put two and two together, and, for once, came up with five.

"No, Carson, you – you don't need to be…" Rodney assured him, stammering in his haste to explain. "I – I mean, what I felt, with you, and – and that mind link thing we had, it… well, it was incredible… I could _feel_ it, Carson… for the first time in my life, I actually _knew_ what having a _real_ father felt like, and… well, it's something I'll never forget, Carson… it's something I'll _never_ forget, and… and something that... well, that I'll always be grateful for..."

They had been words of rare, openly expressed gratitude from the heart of Rodney McKay – and words which left his closest friend equally moved as Carson smiled his appreciation for them.

"That means a lot to me, Rodney, it does, but… well, I'm still sorry for all it's dragged up for you. All this time I've known you, and… well, I – I just never knew things were so rough with your dad…"

Smiling back at him with the same thoughtful expression, Rodney sighed too, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah, well, it's… well, hardly the sort of thing you'd be proud to talk about…" he replied softly – the supportive understanding he'd come to rely on so heavily found, as always, in a voice of unfailing, gentle calm.

"It's not the sort of thing to be ashamed of either, Rodney… it's not as if any of it was your fault…"

"No, you're… um… yeah, I – I guess not…" Rodney agreed, idly circling the rim of his glass – just the trace of a smile re-appearing, coaxed out by the warmth of some more gently chiding wisdom.

"There's no shame in showing your emotions, Rodney, it's all… well, it's all part of being human… because you _are_ human, Rodney… contrary to popular belief, you're _not_ bloody Superman…!"

That won him a slightly stronger, easier smile, in appreciation for a favourite, ongoing joke between them. It may not have been Rodney McKay's finest hour, but… by God, he was grateful for its memory now.

"What about Captain Untouchable…?" he asked at last, making a brave attempt to enter into its spirit. "I – I mean, I know it's not exactly leaping over skyscrapers in a single bound, but I could start by… well, you know, jumping across a few balconies, and… um… work my way up from there… right…?"

"Aye, you could…" Carson agreed, shrugging just as nonchalantly, before adding just as dryly, "But for the sake of _your_ physical welfare, not to mention _my_ sanity, you're not going to… _right_…?"

It seemed odd that a playful threat of bodily violence should now provoke a soft huff of laughter. But however perversely he'd gained it, Carson welcomed that laughter with a grin of pure relief.

It was, though, another cause for concern which now caused Rodney's face to fall back into a worried, uncertain frown.

"Carson, when we get back, you… I – I mean, you won't tell anyone else about this, will you…?"

"No, Rodney, of course I won't…" Carson assured him, with all the seriousness this moment needed. "All we've talked about here… well, I'd say doctor/ patient privilege should cover it, don't you…?"

Smiling at how unusually rapidly Rodney agreed with him, Carson then patted his friend's shoulder - the grin widening from an as yet unseen, unnoticed cause.

"Don't worry, Rodney… really, I meant what I said, I'll never betray the trust you've confided in me. It'll stay safe between you, me… and that sweet, friendly wee sheep who's stealing your lunch…"

"Oh sure, Carson… yeah, right, like I'm gonna fall for _that_ old tr-… _aaaaaaaagh_…!"


	37. Chapter 37

Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: Well, here we are - journey's end ! My final thanks to everyone who's taken the time to share it, and special thanks to Rox, Nelowl, Tierney and Nebbyjen for all their support - so very much appreciated !

So here's the final, slightly longer than usual chapter. I was originally going to write this as a separate story, but then thought it would make a nicely fun ending for this one. I hope you enjoy. Oh, and for anyone who thought Shep had been left out of the whumping stakes... well, I hope his suffering here has been worth the wait ! ;o)

Enjoy !

Chapter Thirty Seven

They'd returned two days ago, bright eyed, bushy tailed and, astonishingly, enviably suntanned – this living proof that sunshine really _did_ exist in Scotland prompting a rush of requests for shore leave.

Along with the inevitable, rapidly emptied bags of presents, and the mother of all care parcels from Gracie Beckett, they'd come back with something else too.

Maybe it had been lurking, unseen and untasted, in those crisp, clear, Scottish glen waters, but... no, Drs Beckett and McKay had, quite definitely, come back from Earth with the same infection. And, unfortunately, it had been John Sheppard who'd unwittingly caught the worst part of it.

Now, as usual, it was going to be left to Elizabeth Weir to face its consequences, which was fine – well, except for the part that, as usual, she didn't have the remotest clue on what was happening.

As far as _she_ knew, the only dangers her flagship team had faced that morning were their booster shots. And with her revitalized, rejuvenated CMO back in his beloved Infirmary, cheerily whistling through his work – well, what trouble from such a familiar routine could John Sheppard and his team possibly get into…?

Except she'd forgotten one rather important thing. Something she really should have learned by now. Thanks, in no small part, to its leader, SGA1 could find trouble, cause chaos, in an empty room.

Still, at least at such times, she could always rely on her rock-steady CMO to smooth things over. Except, of course, for when that CMO's wicked sense of humour decided it needed some exercise. And Carson Beckett's notoriously feisty sense of humour had just run itself one _hell_ of a marathon.

Little wonder, then, that Elizabeth now poured herself an extra generous mugful of coffee. The glint in those bright blue eyes told her, in all known languages, that she was going to need it.

Just over a year earlier, she'd taken charge of the greatest, most challenging mission she'd ever faced. She'd also taken charge of two bickering, overgrown kids who put the city's _real_ children to shame. And, she worriedly noted as they arrived for that morning's meeting, their influence was spreading – because their shy, sane, ever sensible little brother now had the devil dancing gleefully in his eyes.

Following him in, middle brother was studiously tapping on his ever present laptop, fighting to hide an equally devilish smirk.

And _supposedly_ wiser big brother, the usual instigator of merry hell on his two surrogate siblings…? Well, _he_ wasn't smiling, or smirking, or enjoying the joke which clearly centred, for once, around him. No, she noted in barely hidden amusement, John Sheppard wasn't smiling, or smirking, _at_ _all_.

Quite what her very own Three Stooges had been up to _this_ time still had to be entertainingly revealed. But she imagined it had something to do with how gingerly, how _very_ gingerly, John Sheppard settled into his seat – vainly stifled sniggers from the two seats flanking him met with a pointed, quite adorably pouty glare.

With her usual anchor of common sense now lost in a sea of giggles, Elizabeth turned to his deputy – noting, in some disquiet, that both Teyla and Ronon were also fighting to keep their faces straight.

Giving up on the fight she already knew she had no hope of winning, Elizabeth just shook her head. At this rate, she'd be placing her flagship team, her most trusted senior staff, on mass detention.

"Alright, let's get this over with…" she sighed, glancing patiently around a circle of _mostly_ smirking faces. "Is someone going to tell me what's going on, or do I need to send you all to your rooms…?"

It was worryingly interesting to see how quickly, and in perfect unison, two of those grins disappeared. Damn it, even those twinned pairs of startled blue eyes shared the same expression of total innocence.

Summoning up her sternest look, albeit with increasing difficulty, Elizabeth then folded her arms – passing that look, in equal turn, from an expression of stoic defiance to one of quite adorable panic.

"Rodney…? Carson…?"

Faced with such terrible punishment, Rodney McKay did what any self respecting sibling would do. He dumped all the blame, all the responsibility, squarely on his surrogate big brother's shoulders.

"It's his fault…!" he yelped, tossing an accusatory nod towards a politely incredulous John Sheppard. "If he hadn't said something so… so dumb-ass stupid during our booster shots…"

"Ass being the operative word…" Ronon chipped in, prompting another round of silent hysterics. Even Teyla now looked in dire danger of sliding out of her chair, just as John Sheppard shot out of his.

Wondering if she even dared ask, Elizabeth could then feel her own suspicions beginning to form – taking timely, hasty cover behind her coffee mug as her chief pilot sulkily confirmed them.

"Okay, enough already…!" John spluttered, with all the authority his sorely wounded pride allowed, while pointing an accusatory finger of his own between his two tormentors. "Look, you're – you're _definitely_ Scottish, Carson, and… and McKay's a Scottish name, too, and… and hey, it's _possible_, right…? It's possible, just _possible_, that you two _could_ be… well, _related_…"

As fresh laughter erupted around her, Elizabeth stared at her second in command in frank disbelief.

He'd _said_ that…? Actually _said_ that, in front of a feistily Scottish, syringe-wielding doctor…?

Oh, boy...

Plaintive green eyes now swung towards her, in puppy-dog pleading for some much needed support. Unfortunately, all John Sheppard found instead was a leader who now collapsed in helpless laughter. And when, in sulky pique, he sat a little too abruptly on his still tender backside…? Well, that did it. With one notable, glowering exception, Elizabeth Weir's flagship team fell apart in complete hysterics

Even when she doggedly tried to steer them back on track, Elizabeth knew she was fighting a hopeless cause.

"So, um... Rodney, have you managed to track down what caused that power surge in the lab yesterday…?"

"What…? Oh, um… not yet, no…" Rodney admitted, shrugging in seemingly genuine regret – right up until the point when he glanced to his left and grinned a truly evil, thoroughly diabolical grin. "But I'm sure Radek and I will soon… uh, soon get to the bottom of it…"

She couldn't swear to it, but what sounded suspiciously like a growl rose from John Sheppard's seat. And if looks could have killed… well, Dr Rodney McKay would have been in _serious_ need of a doctor

Speaking of which…

Glaring at him too, as sternly as she could manage, Elizabeth then turned, in forlorn hope, to Carson – guessing, from the pure glee on his face, that her CMO had been waiting for this moment _all_ morning.

And was there even the remotest chance of stopping him…? Like hell there was.

"And Carson, if I can leave the vaccination program for M7G 677 with you…?"

To his credit, Carson kept his face completely straight, even as pure devilment gleamed from his eyes.

"Aye, leave it with me, lass, I'll… um… be sure to give it my best shot…"

This time the growl was unmistakeable, its meaning read, and understood, by everyone who'd heard it.

Closest to it, especially in terms of reprisals, its instigators suddenly found _very_ little to laugh about. Instead, as they started to subtly push back their chairs, both of them looked distinctly nervous – their attempts to rise out of them stopped, in no uncertain terms, by a firm hand on each shoulder.

John Sheppard was, as always, determined to have _his_ say in this latest round of brotherly shenanigans. And John Sheppard was currently one _seriously_ peeved pilot.

"Oh no, you don't…" he grinned, beaming down at them in broad, deeply suspicious benevolence – making a point of keeping that extravagantly friendly smile in place as he leant in between them. "Hey, you both must be pretty fit now, right…? I mean, from all that walking and hiking and stuff…?"

Looking for all the world like two rabbits caught in car headlights, Rodney and Carson both nodded – both of them visibly swallowing down a gulp of pure dread as that beatific smile tellingly widened.

"Good… 'cos I'm _only_ gonna give you a ten second start before… _I_… _come_… _to_… **_kill_**… **_you_**…!"

He could have been bluffing, of course, but two quaking doctors weren't willing to stay to find out. In fact, both of them had bolted for the nearest doorway before that threat was halfway completed – John Sheppard's indignant shout of 'I've not started counting yet…!' falling on terror-deafened ears.

Following them out, at a much more sedate pace, Elizabeth, Teyla and Ronon stood on the main balcony – watching the threeway chase below in equal measures of concern, exasperation and helpless laughter. And while Elizabeth knew she should lead by example… well, just this once, she'd make an exception.

Life in her city was already an adventure, of course – a constant, often painful, struggle for survival. But at least with her three protectors around, bound by honour to keep her city safe, Elizabeth knew…

"Och, for God's sake, Rodney, stop bloody following me…!"

"_Me_…? Following _you_…? I think you'll find you've got that backwards...! And - And jeez, why the hell's he so mad at me anyway...? Damn it, Carson, _you_'_re_ the one who rammed that needle in his butt…!"

"Hey, no matter, guys…! Tell you what, to make it easy on you, how about I kill _both_ of you…?"

"Oh, _crap_..."

… that Atlantis was in serious, _serious_ trouble…


End file.
